


Quinn: A Dance With the Devil

by EgoDominusTuus



Series: Boys In Blue [7]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: AU Two Survivors, Blow Jobs, First Time, Hand Jobs, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurities, M/M, Magic Kisses, Mentions of abusive childhood, Military, Multi, Night Terrors, Nightmares, No Spoilers, Other, Pre-Vault, Quinn Ruins all the Pants, Quinn Ruins all the Plans, Quinn's had a shitty past, Rape, Rescue, Revenge, Sexual Content, Soldier Boys, Violence, War, but Sil will make it better, long fic, lovemaking, m/m - Freeform, pre-game, rape/noncon elements, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:43:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6297631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EgoDominusTuus/pseuds/EgoDominusTuus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If I’d had the strength, I would have cried out in joy. All that I could do was lay there and watch with stinging eyes as Silas King began to <i>dance</i>."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quinn: A Dance With the Devil

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Devil Was An Angel Too](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6297613) by [ProwlingThunder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProwlingThunder/pseuds/ProwlingThunder). 



****It wasn’t often that there were benefits to coming from a _very_ broken home, but one of those was enjoying the grounds when leave happened. People fled from the base in droves to see families, loved ones, people who cared… and me? Well, I stayed back. It gave me an opportunity to enjoy the empty barracks, and have a weekend of leisure to myself. The fact that the asshats who seemed intent upon harassing me had decided to go home as well was just an added bonus. Carslile and his gang had become almost intolerant as of late. I didn’t know if it was the fact that I’d stood up to them in those first few days, or the beating that I’d given them over the young woman… but it seemed, lately, their sole purpose was to catch me alone and attempt to thrash me.

  Thus far, I’d proven both hard to catch and made of more mettle than they’d anticipated. I still stepped in when I saw them trying to intimidate or bully someone else – every time I did so, I saw something dark and ugly sparking in Carslile’s eye… and honestly, I was more than just a little sure that he would have tried something more than jumping me at odd hours if it hadn’t been for Silas.

  _God,_ **_Silas_ ** _._

  I couldn’t just sit in my room and let my mind wander - I needed to be doing something physical. Again, I felt lucky that most of my fellow Privates had left the base, because I had free run of the facilities. I was in the training pool, swimming laps back and forth. Thinking about Silas, I almost lost track of my surroundings. His bright eyes held such a full spectrum of emotion, and there were times when I honestly found myself lost. It had been two months since our kiss, and I hadn’t received another since. I didn’t know if he was intentionally trying to distance himself from me on the romantic aspect, or if he’d been so drunk that night that he hadn’t known what he was doing. Whatever it was, project ‘Make Silas lust after Quinn’ wasn’t going as well as I’d hoped. But… he was always around me. Every time it seemed that Carslile was going to go too far, Silas was there with that penetrating gaze and a firm voice.

  Every time Silas was there, I felt my chest go a little tighter. I hadn’t come here with expectations of falling for someone, but there was something about him… he was so… _good._

 I tried to shake the thoughts off, turning onto my back in the water to float lazily to the side of the pool. When I connected with concrete, I held on and closed my eyes, trying to lose myself to the weightless sensation and just _drift_.

  That drifting was interrupted by a sudden sharp pain on my skull, and laughter that caused my blood to run cold. Disoriented, I ducked beneath the water, my eyes opening – a wash of crimson, my blood like rivulets in the chlorinated liquid met my gaze, and then a hand was grabbing me by the shoulder and jerking me violently from the water. I was dazed enough from the blow that I didn’t struggle.

  I had a second to see Carslile’s furious and triumphant face, and then he hit me again. This time, I was acquainted with the object that has split my head – a baseball bat, which sent me doubling over in pain as it connected with my ribs. A sharp, audible _crack_ left me wondering if they’d been broken. Some jaded part of me greeted the pain like an old friend - I was _used to_ the sensation of my ribs being cracked at the hand of my father. My adversary held the same sinister expression that I’d been so acquainted with in my childhood.

  How stupid had I been, to think that Carslile had any family that would still want to see him. Groaning, breathless, I tried to roll back from his reach, and the baseball bat swung upward. I managed to shift so that it only clipped me in the jaw, but even that force sent me rocking back, my vision momentarily gone. That was all that Carslile needed. The bastard was tall and _quick_ , and built like a fucking truck. _._ He moved forward and hit me once more, this time behind my knees so that I went buckling forward, hitting the hard cement of the floor.

  He was laughing now, his multi-hued eyes probably sparkling with mirth. “Did you really think that I wasn’t going to get you back, Quinn? Huh?” The bat hit me between the shoulders as I started to get up, knocking the breath from me again. I could taste blood, but at least I could breathe. With a swift kick to my already aching ribs, he rolled me over… and I found that my body was too exhausted to try to move again. They make it seem like you can take a beating and keep on ticking in the movies – try having the air knocked out of you three times after swimming for an hour. It didn’t make for a quick recovery.

  He raised the bat high above his head, and I saw something in the swirl of his blue and brown hues. A monster – a true monster. Carslile could have killed me in that moment, and I could tell that he actually thought about doing it. I stared up at him blankly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of my fear - if I was going to die, he wasn’t going to see me caving. He wouldn’t see me crying. A smirk crossed his features as that impassive determination pooled my own visage, and he shook his head. “No, I’ve got a better idea. Let’s send a message, shall we?”

  Again, I attempted to roll away – but this time, he hit me in the stomach with the front of the bat, causing bile to rise in my throat, burning acidity pairing with the pain of the strike. Carslile dropped his body in a quick motion, so that his weight pinned me to the ground. He chuckled at the sight of his actions, my frame helplessly trapped beneath his own, meaty weight. Sometimes, people made me startlingly aware of the fact that I was smaller than your average male. Carslile was one big chunk of meat and beef. In that moment, I would have given anything to have the pistol that I was training with strapped to my side, instead of the damn flimsy swim shorts that I had on my body. They offered me no protection, and with Carslile on top of me, I knew that I needed it.

  “Get the fuck off of me!” I spat the words out, hearing my own voice thick from the pain and the weight of him on my chest.

  “I don’t think so, you little piece of shit. There’s no Silas here to save you this time, is there?” Just saying those words seemed to infuriate him, and I bucked my body up. It nearly threw him from me, but he had at least 40 pounds of muscle _alone_ on me, and it wasn’t enough. In a fluid motion, he threw the bat and pulled a combat knife from his boot. “If you want to keep that face of yours intact,” He pressed the blade directly beside my left eye, “I’d suggest you hold still.”

  I froze – though I was a natural born fighter, I was smart enough to know when to bide my time for an opportunity. When a psychopath had a very sharp blade pressed to the corner of my eye… yeah, that wasn’t the time to try to make a move. Instead, I took the moment to take in as deep of a breath as I could. I realized that this was no longer about fighting, but instead waiting for a moment when fighting was possible. Above me, Carslile chuckled.

  “You know, if you two are going to be such faggots, maybe I should show Silas what happens to his bitch boys. Maybe he needs a _reminder_.” My eyes widened, and I had to bite my tongue at his words. This was about the way that I felt for Silas, about the way that Silas protected me. I could have saved him the trouble and told him that since that one kiss, the feeling hadn’t been reciprocated… but he drug the knife down the side of my face in a slow line. I could feel a cut opening up – superficial, not deep enough to leave much of a scar, but it was there. I refused to wince at the pain, refused to give him that pleasure. I’d been through more Hell with my father than this prick could ever dish out.

  His blonde brows knit at my lack of response, but whatever depraved thoughts welled in his mind soothed him from losing his temper. He stopped with the knife at my throat. “You’re going to do everything that I tell you, or I’m going to slit your throat and leave you strung up for your loverboy to find. He’ll blame himself.” Carslile’s eyes were on fire, “Do you understand?”

  I nodded slowly, though even taking a breath threatened to have the knife puncture the soft skin of my throat. I was surprised to notice that my mind was going numb to the situation. I wasn’t afraid – I’d been through far too much in my lifetime to be afraid… especially of someone as pathetic as Carslile. It reminded me of when I was young, and my father used to come home drunk enough to beat the shit out of me just for the fun of it. I’d distance myself – I’d put myself out of my own mind if only so that I didn’t have to live the experience. As Carslile raised his hips just enough to unbutton his fly and pull out an already half erect cock, I knew that I was going to need to do that now more than ever.

  There was a part of me that thought of raising up, fighting – now, before anything else happened. He was bigger than me by a head and some change, and had enough muscle that he could probably just wrench me in two if he so chose. He would probably kill me without any qualms. I could see it in his eyes that he was waiting for me to give him an excuse. That wasn’t what scared me – my father was six foot, four inches tall… and even with a beer gut, he was all former military muscle. The man could pick up a couch when he was in a drunk haze and toss it. Carslile didn’t frightened me. His words though…

  There was another part of me though that thought of what he’d said - it was that part that gave me pause. He’d leave me strung up for Silas to find… and even if I didn’t have the best sense of self preservation, I didn’t want to think of what that would do to the dark haired man who had become the object of my affection. It was only now, in the light of everything that was happening, that I was beginning to realize that I was more than enamored with Silas.  We’d spent quite a bit of time together – every time I saw him stand brave, proud, strong… every time I saw a smile grace his features, his eyes sparkling, I was hiding from the truth of my emotions.

  I might have loved him. Just a little.

  Just a little was just enough to make me hold myself steady so that my death wouldn’t be on his hands. If I knew anything about him, I knew that the fact that I’d died in his name would haunt him. I didn’t know what he’d do to Carslile– I didn’t want his life or mentality ruined just because of me. Just because I was stupid enough to keep chasing after him until Carslile had taken note. Instead of saying anything, I bared my teeth, half growling at the psychopath above me.

  “That’s right, you little shit. You’re going to do exactly what I say. Now open your mouth.”

  I didn’t _want_ this. My mind was spinning like a tiger locked in a cage. I could fight back – I probably wouldn’t win, but I could at least die trying. Even as I thought this, I compliantly opened my lips, and felt the force of Carslile’s hard cock slam deep into my mouth without pretense or hesitation. I half wretched from the filthy taste of him, in tandem with the feel of him knocking hard against the back of my throat. I coughed, and felt the knife prod against my neck enough to draw blood. “If you bite me, you little faggot, I’ll slit you from ear to ear.”

  My head was screaming – his weight was too much. I couldn’t breathe past the feel of him thrusting his prick with the full force of his hips. His eyes rolled back for a moment in pleasure. I didn’t know if he was enjoying the sensation of my mouth or the simple fact that he was raping someone, but whatever it was, it caused my stomach to roll. He thrust again, and again, until the back of my throat was raw and it took everything inside of me not to start coughing and vomiting. It was like I was standing outside of my body, watching the way that he moved without mercy, the way that he invaded, the way that he used me to paint some kind of macabre love letter to Silas King. My eyes were open wide, and I could feel hot tears of fury and pain threaten to slick down my cheeks - it was only careful and rigorous training by way of fist and blood that stopped them from spilling - my father had beat the lesson into me well, and I never knew why. Even though the tears wouldn’t fall, inside, I was crying.

  Crying for the fact that I couldn’t stop this… and for the fact that, even if I got out of this alive, I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to face Silas again. I closed my eyes and pictured his sweet, blue gaze, and tried to drift away from the feel of the knife and the sensation of my throat going raw and ragged from Carslile’s assault.

  “Oh, no you don’t, you little bitch.” My body was suddenly rocked – he jerked back from my throat and flipped me over. I felt his knife cut down the side of my leg, and the shorts that I’d been wearing were pulled from my body, a crimson slick of blood left in their wake. “You don’t get to get out of this easy, you faggot. You fucking hear me!” I looked over my shoulder – Carslile’s eyes were wide, his breath ragged, a manic smile on his face. And finally, he said the words that told me why he was doing this. “Silas is mine, you fucking piece of shit. I’ll fucking show him!” There was no warning as he thrust his cock hard against my ass, forcing himself half inside of me. I felt hot liquid slicking his movement, and somewhere my mind told me that it was my own blood that he’d rubbed against his prick.

  His new violation didn’t register. It was his words that made me snap – when he pulled back, I was ready. I jerked my head back, and I felt it connect with his face. His teeth cut into the back of my skull, and he let out a scream of rage. I scrambled, managing to jump to my feet in a burst of adrenaline. I wasn’t going to let him do this, to use this, to fucking hurt Silas.

  I wasn’t going to let this monster anywhere near him.

  I felt him lung towards me, and just managed to roll out of the way in time. My leg kicked up, connecting with his knee, and he shrieked. I cursed silently, because he managed to keep his footing; I clearly hadn’t managed to dislocate his kneecap. A snarl spilled from my lips and I pushed myself in an attempt to stand – he tossed his meaty frame forward, and I sidestepped in a half struggling movement. Carslile managed to slide the blade of his knife against my chest, but I felt satisfaction when my fist connected with his nose. There was a vicious crunch, it exploded like a ripe tomato, and he screamed in fury.

I laughed at him, though the sound was pained. I was going to be in a hell of a lot of trouble when my adrenaline wore off. “Don’t you get it? No matter what you do, you’re never going to have him. Silas is too good for a fucking shit stain like you. He’s untouchable!” I spat the word out, and hit him again, this time connecting with his jaw. The knife flung forward again in a burst of crimson stained silver, and I had to jump back – his foot connected against my ankle and I stumbled, half kneeling on the ground. He was looking down at me now, and I could see murder in his eyes. Carlisle’s face was coated in blood – I was pleased that I’d done so much damage. I forced myself to my feet with the last surge of energy that I had, trying to brace myself, trying to decide what the best plan of attack would be. Carslile screamed, his entire face contorted in furious rage at the words that I’d hissed at him… and threw the knife – I felt it fling forward, glancing off of my arm and cutting open my flesh. I made the mistake of looking down at the wound… I didn’t see the fist that landed against my jaw, and I didn’t have the strength to catch myself as I fell.

 “Sil…” My voice was a hoarse ache, and then my body hit the ground. Carslile was upon me again, and I felt the sting of a blade against my back. The wound was deeper this time, dragging pain that ran from shoulder to ass. His fingers streaked against the wound, slicking the blood into his palm… and then he crawled atop me again. The pressure of his weight was too much - my arms didn’t have the strength to toss him from me again.

  “I’m going to fuck you, and then I’m going to kill you. You goddamn faggot. You and that _shit_ Toby. I’ll show him. I’ll fucking show him!” I had time to register a name that I didn’t know, and a fury that was clearly present inside of him before I’d even existed in his mind, and then his prick was inside of me again. Numbness was my only ally, and I tried to lose myself to the sensation of it as pain and shame overtook my mind, and Carslile drove himself hard and deep into a body that no longer felt like my own. Perhaps I only imagined it, but I could have sworn that I heard someone call my name as darkness at my vision.

   There comes a point in life when your mind tells you that it’s okay to give up. Mentality breaks down, and you let yourself drift away from your own thoughts. Sensation, feelings, reality is nothing more than an abstract fantasy. The brain does this because if you were really, completely aware of what was happening, you simply wouldn’t survive. I knew what was happening - I could see it… but my brain wasn’t letting me feel it. My brain wasn’t letting me feel the way that Carslile had my arm wrenched above my head, or the way that his body was slamming against my own. It wasn’t letting me feel my innocence that I’d managed to keep hold of being snatched away. I’d never given this part of myself to anyone before, and to lose it now - in such a way? It was no wonder that my mind was throwing up a block.

  I knew that my body was in pain - I knew that the only thing that was keeping Carslile from literally ripping me apart was my own warm, salty blood. I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about the way that he was splitting into my body. I just wanted to think about the fact that it would be over soon.

  It would all be over soon.

  The only thing that hurt about that fact was that I’d never get to see Silas again - his body lean and sheened with sweat after a drill, his voice coming out like a sharp command that could force anyone to stand at attention. I already loved those heartbreakingly beautiful blue eyes, and it broke me to know that I’d never see them looking at me - often times exasperated with the trouble I’d managed to get into - ever again.

  Of course, it was a comfort, too… a comfort to know that he’d never see me so broken. A comfort to know that he’d never see that I’d given up. I’d only given up because I wanted him to stay safe, to stay sane, to stay guilt free. I’d given up, because I was afraid that fighting would cause more harm than good.

  I’d given up, because I didn’t feel like there was anything worth fighting for anymore. I didn’t feel like I was even worth trying for anymore. Whatever broken thing I was now, I wasn’t _worthy_ of a man like Silas King. Not anymore.

  I tried not to feel the pain that continued to rock through my body - but I _felt_ it when Carslile’s weight was suddenly ripped from me like a great torrent of wind had caught him and sent him flying. Had I died? Was this sweet death, sweet relief?

  How could it be? _Everything hurt._ I didn’t want to breathe. I didn’t want to move. I barely had the strength to take in a breath - I probably looked like a corpse. If this was the _sweet release_ of death that everyone had talked about, I wanted my money back.

   “You’re late to the party, Silas,” my eyes dragged open at the name, and my entire body gave a trembling pulse that forced agony to rock through me, tear at my nerves, tell me that I was still _definitely_ alive. “Broke your new toy, sorry about that. The little fucker had a hot mouth and a virgin-tight ass, though.”

  My lips had been parted, ready to call out Silas’ name, but at those words, they snapped decisively shut. I couldn’t… I… he’d tainted me. He was right - I was broken now. I only just managed to turn my head, and when I did, my breath was taken away. Silas was _trembling_ with palpable fury that came off of him in hot waves that threatened to burn away my sanity.

  “Like what you see, you fag?” Carslile’s voice was like a scalding whip of agony through my body, but I couldn’t focus on him. Maybe he didn’t realize what he was doing, but I could see the tension and emotion winding deeper and deeper inside of Silas. If I’d been him, I’d have run when my savior first entered the room. Instead, Carslile continued to taunt. “Cat got your tongue, huh? Or are you scared, just like your little bitch?”

   The tone made me shudder - of course I’d been right. He wanted Silas, and I’d just been a calling card - some fucked up version of a love song, composed in crimson and shame.

  It poured pain through me when Silas stood up - and when he took a step forward, I realized that I had to do _something._ I’d gone through the torture of what Carslile had done to save Silas, and even if the damned fool couldn’t see it, I could clearly read what was pouring off of the object of my obsession’s frame now.

  Absolute _murder_ . He was going to break Carslile in half, and if I didn’t say something, he’d have no reason to think that the bastard hadn’t killed me. Maybe he didn’t feel the way that I felt, but I knew the Captain well enough to know that his moral compass pointed to the utmost north. He was turning into some kind of an avenging angel, and I wouldn’t let him ruin his life just because of a _broken_ thing like me.

  It took more strength than I wanted to admit to take in a breath - I could feel each and every rib that Carslile had hit with the bat. But I did it - it was harder still to make myself say his name. I didn’t feel like I deserved it anymore.

  “...Sil..?”

  I didn’t know what I was expecting - there was the slightest of movement, the tension in his shoulders relaxing just a fraction, but he continued forward. Had I misread the entire situation? As he stepped forward to Carslile’s waiting form, my heart sank with such pain that I nearly cried out from it. The grin that I could clearly see on Carslile’s face told me that maybe…

  Maybe…

  I couldn’t think about it. If I’d had the strength, I would have curled into a ball - but as it was, I could only lay there and stare as Silas took another step. It was only because I was _so attuned_ to everything that he did that I noticed his hand uncurling, making a sign that I’d learned a few weeks ago.

   _Wait. More information._

Even as he motioned that, seeing Carslile holding Silas face was making me nauseated.

Had I seen things right? Or was my heart just hopeful that Silas wasn’t going to crawl into Carslile’s arms… after… after what had happened. I couldn’t blame him for going to someone else; all of my ventures were clearly in vain. Silas King was so much _better_ than damaged goods.

  And that’s what I was.

  Smugness pooled from my attacker’s voice as he spoke. “You always make the _best_ choices, you know? I’ll bet--”

  I was reminded yet again of how fucking beautiful Silas King was. His body moved in one fluid motion that brought his arm forward - his entire weight was thrown into the movement of his punch. I heard the audible crunch of Silas’ fist, glinting with metal, connecting to Carslile’s face.

  If I’d had the strength, I would have cried out in joy. All that I could do was lay there and watch with stinging eyes as Silas King began to _dance_.

  His body jerked back from the grip, and I saw a flash of crimson on his face. My blood, Carslile’s blood… I wasn’t sure. The glint of metal in a swinging hand made my stomach clench, but Silas darted away from it. I knew that it had grazed him, but he didn’t seem to register it. His movement carried him away from me, so that I was given a perfect, front-row seat to the action at hand. I only wished that I could get the strength to get up, to help… but my body was refusing to move. I wasn’t sure if it was pain, or shock, or shame that took the strength from my legs, but it simply wasn’t there.

  Silas’ opponent darted forward, all bumbling arms and thick movements - his attacks couldn’t hold a candle to the grace that my dark haired savior showed with each step that it took out of Carslile’s range. I could see the knife working, catching against Sil in a few desperate swings, but it wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough. I’d told Carslile once, and I’d tell him again - he was never going to be good enough for Silas.

  No one was…

  “You could never take me in a fair fight, so you had to resort to tools to make it easier?” Silas danced back again, edging towards the pool. “I’m disappointed in you.” Taunting, teasing, a song to go with his dance. Everything inside of me was swelling in emotion. I couldn’t believe that, even now, even after what had happened, I could _feel_ even _stronger_ for Silas King. But I did. He was a knight, standing tall and dark, like some angel. Maybe I was a broken thing, but at least he was going to make sure that I got out of this alive enough to piece myself back together.

  Something in Carslile’s face changed. I knew that it was from the taunt - I knew that it was because, even now, he was realizing that all of his effort was in vain. Silas couldn’t be touched, and he wouldn’t be shaken. If anything, he’d only made things worse for himself, because now he could see just how pathetic he truly was. I smirked, though the very sensation of moving even my mouth hurt. It only took a second for that expression to slip from Carslile’s face, and then he was charging forward.

  Silas was ready for the grand finale of his stunning performance. He caught the charging bull, palms open, and sidestepped with a graceful ease that allowed him to grab Carslile’s wrist. With a fling and the furious momentum of his dance partner, he sent Carslile flying forward. A resounding splash sent water spattering onto my frame, and relief momentarily settled over my chest. At least for a breath in space, that bastard had gotten his.

  Silas’ last move was to dance out of the way of those grabbing, snatching fingers, and then he turned to me. For a moment, I felt like time was frozen - I could see him there, looking at me, and shame wrapped around me like a greedy, filthy cloak. I lay nude, beaten, broken… and now, for the first time since our kiss, I could _feel_ his eyes on me. I knew that he was looking, I knew that he could see me.

  This was not the Quinn that I had wanted to present. I’d wanted someone strong, flirting, casual. Not someone who’d just had all of their worth stolen from them, and whose lips were bruised from assault. I ached, and the exhaustion and weight of how pathetic I was poured over me in a shower of odium.

  And then Silas was moving, and I could do nothing but watch him approach, sprinting quickly to my side.

  “I’m here now,” I didn’t understand the apology in his words. The fact that he was here at all was the only thing that had stopped Carslile from killing me. As much as I’d wanted it, he wasn’t obligated to be at my side… and yet here he was, a devil dancing in the moonlight with my attacker. I wanted to say something, but the numbness of my shame and pain muted me. “I’m here now, Quinn. I…” Silas seemed to stumble over his own worry. “How… Can you be moved? Do I need to fetch the doctors?”

  Doctors? Alarm pulsed through me at those words. I hadn’t seen a doctor in years - I’d learned to stick through pain and mend my own wounds. I certainly wasn’t going to start now. I couldn’t let everyone else know what had happened - and I wasn’t going to incriminate Silas in any way by crying out for help. Instead, I watched Silas with wary eyes as his own gaze darted around the room. I didn’t have to look to see when his eyes connected with the bat that had beaten me down - I could feel each blow again, rocking across my body, and bile threatened to crawl up my throat. Fury was lancing its way through Silas’ gaze again, and I realized, pain or no pain, I needed to respond.

  He needed to get the hell out of this room before he did something that he would regret. He wasn’t going to fuck his life up over me. He simply wasn’t. I’d stand and walk away myself if I had to.

  “Don’t need a medic.” It hurt to gasp the words out, and when I tried to lick my lips, all that I could taste was blood. I hoped that my voice conveyed my convictions. I wasn’t going to let him do anything else - I couldn’t. It wasn’t worth it.

  I wasn’t…

  “Okay. I’m going to roll you over and get you out of here.” _Thank God._ I didn’t know if I really had the strength to drag Silas away from the poolside, and I was glad that I didn’t have to find out.

  I felt the brush of fingers on the back of my neck, and the touch burned like fire through my nerves. It ached, because I’d wanted it for so long. It ached because now that I was getting it, I felt like I was sullying his goddamn perfect skin with my own filthy frame. I almost opened my mouth, told him the lie that I could do it myself, but he was apologizing, and then moving me, and it was like liquid lava pouring through my senses. I lost a few moments, the pain enough to steal the time away from me, but when my mind returned I was curled protectively against Silas’ chest, with the warmth of his body pouring into my chilled frame.

  For just a moment, one dazzlingly perfect moment… I felt at peace. He was holding me, and it was all that I’d ever wanted. Even with the pain, feeling his arms around me was like the wings of an angel lifting me up. I closed my eyes and rested my head against his chest and let myself pretend, if only for a brief space in time, that the world hadn’t come crashing down around my feet.

  I was jerked from my reverie at the sensation of Silas kicking a door open. My head jerked up long enough to see that it was the entrance to his room, and not some medic… and I let myself settle back, for the last few seconds that I had before he put me down.

  All too soon, my back was against Silas’ mattress - if I’d been more myself, I would have joked that I’d been here before… but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to bring up our previous kiss now. I almost felt unworthy of that experience, too. Instead, I kept silent and watchful, my eyes staying affixed to his frame as he moved around the room to gather up supplies. Almost unbidden, I heard his name spilling ragged from my chest.

  “...Sil..?”

  His body turned immediately, as though his strings were hinged on the pain tugging at my heart. He was _so goddamn perfect_ , and I was sitting here broken. I tried to push myself up, tried to find some dignity. Maybe I could make it to my room? Maybe he didn’t have to see me like this? I’d always been good at a quick recovery, no matter the severity of the beating - I wanted to use that to my advantage now. I could hardly meet his gaze as he came to the edge of the bed.

  “I’m here.” A perfect promise. “I’ve got you.” Guilt was a mask that covered his sweet face, and I hated myself for causing it. I hated myself for causing all of this. If I’d just left him alone - clearly, he’d not wanted me then, and he certainly wasn’t going to now… I should have realized that angels didn’t dance with the people on earth. Even a perfectly devilish angel like Silas King.

  I didn’t know if he could read my expression, or if he simply wanted to fill the silence. He spoke words to me, and they made my heart give a small little leap. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” _Let’s get you fixed up._ “The whiskey’s gonna sting.”

  God, I didn’t care about that. I almost laughed - he’d repeated the same words to me that he’d spoken the first time we met, the first time I’d fallen. And _God_ had I fallen hard then. _I’ll get you fixed up._ And then a kiss, salty copper and whiskey, like the bottle he held in his hand now. Words spilled from my throat, a soft mock of what _could_ have been, and what _could never be_ now. “You could always kiss it better.”

  Even as I spoke, I felt tears stinging at my gaze. My eyes shifted from his face - I couldn’t stand the sight of his wrenching guilt any more, and I couldn’t stand knowing that he was looking at _me_ that way. I busied myself with staring at his wall instead, and I thought I did a damn good job of stopping the quiver from spilling through my lower lip. Everything inside of me was _burning_ with shame. This was nothing like the last time I’d been in his room, and all that I wanted to do was dissolve.

  There was the smallest part of me that wished that Carslile had just killed me, so that I wouldn’t have to face him now. I swallowed hard, and felt the burn of it down my throat. Just the sensation brought a flashback of Carslile’s prick, hot and thick, ripping at sensitive skin and making me feel like some broken whore of a toy that a petulant child had tossed aside.

**_Fuck._ **

“Do you trust me, Quinn?” His words burned through my senses like a lance. Did I trust him? For just a second, I felt like I was going to cry for the first time since I was a kid. _Did I trust him?_ I don’t know if he understood how ridiculous it was to ask me that - he was… so… fucking… perfect, and even now, he seemed to be _worried_ about me, when I could hardly stand to be in the same room as myself. I wanted to just leave my own skin and burn it, so that I never had to see who I was again… but instead, he was there, beside me, a solid weight that was calling to me.

  And all that I wanted was to collapse against his chest and tell him that _yes_ I trusted him, and _fuck me_ , I loved him. I knew it, thick and solid in that moment… because love was the only thing that could have given me the strength not to start sobbing… and the _only_ reason that I didn’t run out of the room. My fingers worked on the bed that I lay against, finding a crease and gripping it tight. I needed something to anchor me right now, or I was going to give in and just fall against him.

  I couldn’t do that. He deserved _so_ much better now.

  I heard liquid slosh, and felt him lean closer to the bed, and the words inside of me burned out of my throat and into the air in a small, ragged confession. “I _do_ trust you.” I’ve trusted you since the  moment that you saved me, since the moment that I saw you… since the moment that I realized you were some kind of goddamn angel cast out of heaven and put here on earth. I couldn’t say all of that, but I could softly add, “Have for a while now.”

  There, I’d managed words without tears.

  It _almost_ felt like an accomplishment. Just uttering any semblance of a confessional syllable had been hard enough on me. I couldn’t look at him - I couldn’t feel anything but the sea of shame that was slowly sinking me to the bottom of its depths, with Carlile’s actions a an anchor tied round my waist. My trust didn’t really matter anymore, did it? Not in light of what had happened.

  If I’d been a good person, a stronger person, I would have walked out of the room then and there, so he wouldn’t have had to touch me. But I wasn’t… and I _needed_ to be close to him.

  “Okay.” His voice was the epitome of caution. I heard him fiddling with the rag some more, and I couldn’t help myself. My eyes turned to stare at him for just a moment - his gorgeous and perfect form, so careful over his labor. What if he knew what happened to me? What if he knew _all_ of it? Would he still want to…

  I couldn’t think of that.

  His gaze turned up to me again, and I had to bite back my emotions. “I’m going to touch you again, get you cleaned up. Tell me if anything hurts.”

   Silence was my dance partner then, and she and I were old friends. I could remember hours of keeping my mouth shut while torment was rained down upon me, because to speak would have been to show weakness. Showing weakness was a sure-fired way to make it hurt _worse._ My brain was telling me that this was the same situation, that I couldn’t show him that I was broken. Maybe if I didn’t show him…

  I couldn’t tell if the expression across his features meant that he already knew or not. I didn’t have time to think it through though, because Silas was moving and I realized that I wasn’t _ready_  to feel him touching me. I braced myself, and when the warmth of his palm pressed against the flat of my foot, I managed not to make a sound. Or a move. I was like a statue beneath his fingertips.

  I wasn’t afraid of Silas, though I was afraid of touch. His touch didn’t hurt me though - and the sweet comforting warmth of his hand against my skin was enough to make tears threaten my gaze again. I felt fucking _filthy,_ and I was letting him touch me. It was some kind of goddamn _sin_.

  Every move that he made seemed to be precise, calculated… and every centimeter that his hand traveled over my skin threatened to bring a shiver from my spine. The emotions inside of me were a whirlwind of confusion, and for the first time, I felt well and truly lost. He moved from foot to ankle, and when his fingers gave a gentle squeeze, I nearly shouted.

   I _wanted_ this. God, wasn’t this what I’d been wanting all along? For Silas to touch me? To act like he wanted to put his hands on my skin? Why… why did it have to happen now that I wanted to crawl out of my own flesh so that I’d never have to feel it again? Though I didn’t move, I gritted my teeth with enough strength that I was afraid my jaw would pop. I was being a cowardly, selfish piece of shit for even letting him lay a finger on my sullied frame.

    It took all of the strength that I had to keep a carefully blank expression - my eyes were usually a kaleidoscope of emotions, the bright green giving me away if I wasn’t intentionally taking care to keep my feelings a secret. I was having to take extra care now, because his hand slid up from my ankle to my leg, and my entire body wanted to both tense and throw itself forward against him all at once.

  He was playing some sort of game with me - it was all that I could think. His hand danced up and down along my leg, and each soft brush of his fingertips sent a jolt of sensation through my body that connected first with my heart - which thundered in need and desire - and then with my head. My head was telling me how perverse I was for enjoying this at all - how I was tainting Silas King, and I should tell him to stop.

  I’d never been more confused in my life. More ashamed… more…

   _Needy._

Finally, his hand came to a halt on my knee, and he broke our locked gazes. I took that brief moment of respite from his blue eyes burning through me to clench my own shut for just a second. For just a moment, I let the torrent of emotions that I felt cross my face, and just as quickly, I opened them again.

  The sting of alcohol against a laceration sent a scream of sensation and memory through my entire body - I’d cleaned my own wounds with alcohol more than enough times to know what it felt like. Sometimes it was all that I had on hand, after my father had laid my skin open.

  Silas had cleaned my brow with a wet whiskey rag when we had kissed - and suddenly, the memory of those crimson flavored kisses burned through me. My knee jerked under the sting, my hand threatening to come up to cover my mouth. It took me a second, but I managed to get the thoughts that were pounding through me under control.

  Slowly, the sensation of stinging whiskey and Silas’ deft fingers applying steri-strips became a gentle comfort. The pain, the burn, the pull of skin… maybe it was a bad sign for me that there was something almost reliving about being injured and then patched up? It meant that I’d lived through it, that I could live through it again, if I had to.

  The last inch of skin was pulled back together, and Silas gave my knee a gentle squeeze. A breath escaped my chest that I’d been holding through the process. I didn’t realize that he was bending his head… and the soft sensation of his lips against my wound caused my entire body to jerk in reaction.

  There was a white-hot, blazing sensation where his mouth had touched me. No one had ever cared to _kiss it better_ before, other than Silas… and like some magical font of power, where his mouth touched, I didn’t care about the pain anymore. For just a minute, I forgot to be guilty over the fact that his lips were touching me at all. All that I could think about was the fact that Silas was kissing gently against my skin, and his lips were the softest thing that I’d ever felt in my life.

  Perhaps in reaction to my sudden movement, he pulled back. Suddenly, all of that warmth vanished, from lips to fingers. His gaze was down, his hands held out to show that he meant no harm… and I felt my heart break all over again.

  This man was _too perfect_ to ever be mine now. Not after what had happened. But for just a minute… for just a minute, I wanted…

  What did I want?

  I didn’t know. I wanted to ask him to just tell me, to show me. I couldn’t do that though… but I knew that I couldn’t go another second with him sitting back on his heels and not looking at me.

   _“Please.”_ There was no definition to my aching need, but I could hear the way that the words broke ragged and breathless from my throat, like a pulse of wretchedness and desideratum all in one. I couldn’t vocalize what the _please_ had meant, because even I wasn’t sure.

 _Please,_ don’t stop touching me.

 _Please_ , forgive me for how broken I am now.

   _Please..._ I think I’m falling in love with you.

  I wanted to berate myself at the last thought, because I couldn’t have that. He needed someone who was a whole person, and I knew that I’d honestly been broken from the start. Still, Silas swallowed hard, so that I could watch his adam’s apple jump in his throat, and then took in a breath to speak.

  “I’m going to touch you again.” My entire body let out a small burst of joy at the words, and instantly, culpability washed across me for the sensation. I held myself softly rigid as Silas’ head descended towards my body again… and the feel of his mouth pressing once more against the split and bandaged skin was…

  Heaven.

  Every press of his pout threatened to draw a soft sound from my lips, but I managed to hold it in. I couldn’t stop my body from pulling upward, outward, relaxing at each brush of Silas’ touch, until all of the tension had spilled from me, taken away by the magic of his kisses.  I caught my hand coming up more than once, aching to brush against his head - I wanted to touch him, to draw him closer, to tell him that his mouth was a goddamn bewitching thing. But I couldn’t - I could let him touch me, but I couldn’t touch him in return. My fingers clenched midair, and I quickly brought sullied digits to the sheets again, gripping against the fabric instead.

  Kisses and fingers trailed upward, until my mind was a soft ache of sensation, and his touch danced to the shell of my hip. I knew that the effervescent cloud I was riding on would come crashing down soon, but looking down the length of my body, where Silas so carefully continued his teasing advance… I didn’t care.

  I noticed, as he moved, small flashes of fury that brought the spring of his blue gaze to an icy winter. I had a feeling that I knew exactly what that was all about. The knowledge that he was so furious with Carslile was a motivator for me to stay in place - I didn’t want him running off to the poolhouse to try and finish what he’d started with the larger blonde. I couldn’t let Silas ruin his career out of some sense of misplaced defense of my honor. That was long gone, and nothing he did to Carslile was going to bring it back.

  His voice pulled me back to reality, “I’m going to check your ribs real quick,” he sounded guilty, just saying it. I could have told him that they were cracked, at worse, but… even if it was going to hurt, I wanted his touch. When he found out how dirty and used I was, he might never want to again.

  I wanted it while I could have it.

  I pushed my shame aside and let myself revel in the feel of him - though that didn't stop the sharp hiss of pain that spilled from my throat when he applied pressure to my ribs. I didn't want to look at my own skin. I bruised easily, and my ribs were already painting a picture that I didn't want to remember. Each touch of Sil's probing threatened to remind me of Carslile's assault, but I didn't let it.

  He'd already taken so much away from me. I wasn't going to let him take this, too. I could see Silas react to every small sound that forced its way from my chest, and I felt guilt at each wash of sorrow in his eyes. I didn't deserve it - I didn't deserve him.

  Finally, he stopped prodding at my ribs, satisfied that they were still intact, at least for the most part. His eyes swept up to me again, and I tried to school my expression to a facade of blankness.

  "You can lay back down?" His voice was a gentle offer. I hadn't even thought about the position that my body was in, but now that I did, I realized that I _was_ fairly uncomfortable. I'd propped myself so that I could watch Silas, so that I could tell when I needed to be strong, and when I could let my face fall into its own expression of agony laced despondency. "Blood washes out easily enough."

  But what had happened to me would never wash away, would it? I couldn't pull my mask on quickly enough to hide the shame-filled pain that ripped through my gaze. I wanted him, so much. Now, more than ever - watching him be some kind of champion... knowing that Silas King was truly a perfect, fallen angel put on this earth... I wanted him.

  And I couldn't have him.

  Fury washed through his eyes again - indignation and blazing heat, and it tore his name from my throat before I could stop it.

  "Sil," I paused. There was so much that I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him that I could go, that I could just make my way back to my room. I knew that there was still a massive gash on my back... but honestly, I didn't know if I wanted him to look at it, anyway. It and my swollen, abused lips were the scarlet letter of my newfound broken soul, and I didn't want his eyes to linger on their presence.

  I wanted to tell him that I loved him, and I didn't deserve his sweet, devilish fury.

  But I couldn't. I shook my head in protest to my own desire to speak, and finally managed a soft, "Okay."

  Okay...

  I had forever to watch as Silas' head descended again, forever to watch the way that his mouth fell into an even softer line right before his lips pressed against my bruised skin. Again, all thoughts were chased from my mind in the wake of his attentions, and I was lost in riptide of his touch.

  I didn't realize that I trembled, though I could feel my brain having trouble thinking from a distinct lack of oxygen. I couldn't get a deep enough breath, and it had nothing to do with the pain in my ribs and _everything_ to do with the soft ministration that Silas King's magical kisses provided. I realized that each brush of his mouth was bringing soft, whimpering sounds from my throat... and for the moment, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, save for the fact that he was making me feel like things could be okay, like we could be okay... like I could still have this achingly wonderful touch that made my life feel complete.

  No one had ever cared for me this way - no one had picked me up when I was down. No one had bothered to kiss away my pain, but he was damn well doing it. I’d heard of kissing it better, and I’d always laughed before. I wasn’t laughing now.

  His mouth played a sweet tango along my entire chest until his lips feathered to my breastbone. There was suddenly soft, wet heat, and the sensation of Silas' tongue playing against the divot of my collarbone. It jerked a gasp of pure pleasure from my chest, which brought a spur of pain as my ribs protested. I didn't care though.

  Oh, God. He was so perfect.

  I could feel his lips turning into a prideful grin against my flesh, and my brain scrambled to remember why this was wrong, why I wasn't good enough for him - why I was broken.

  "Should I be apologizing for this?"

  A groan spilled from my chest involuntarily. Ever the saint, he was worried about _my_ virtue.

  I remembered suddenly why he wasn't supposed to be doing this, and my brain instantly threw up defenses - not yet. I wasn't ready to make him stop yet. My body shifted, and my words came out before my guilt could catch up with me. " _Sil_." Soft, desperate.

  "Hmm?"

  "..don't stop."

  There. I'd managed it, and I hadn't let my guilt talk me out of this little piece of Heaven that I was being shown. I could see light and joy spread across Silas' features, and I clung to that expression. Soon enough, he could know that I was broken.

  Just not yet...

  He pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching out for me. Calloused fingers played against my shoulders before coming to a rest there; my mind was already falling to the wayside again, lost under the softness of his touch. I could live like this, sustained on his embrace, feeding off of the emotions that he made me feel. His hand stayed for a moment, and then trailed down my arm - that arm had burned before. I'd had my body used as a tool against me multiple times when I was young, but it never felt any better to have it happen. Carslile had used the appendage like a handle, but I wasn't thinking of that now. I was thinking of the way that Silas touched me, and the way that the heat of his hand was penetrating into my aching skin like sweet _life._ The touch brought a shiver of delight from me.

  His tongue played a line against my collarbone again, and I realized that he’d _definitely_ found one of my weaknesses. The feel of his mouth there was turning my brain into a lusty pile of mush, and I couldn’t even begin to grasp at my protest of why this was wrong anymore. I couldn’t think of anything past Silas. His mouth moved from chest to shoulder in a slow chase of kisses that left me dizzy - the trail swept him around, up my shoulder, and to the curve of my ear. I might have protested - I really might have, but everything was scorching need, and suddenly his mouth was clamping around the lobe of my ear. Something between a moan and a purr spilled deep from my chest, and it brought tiny little quavers across my entire body.

  My mind was a race of thoughts and emotions, and none of them could catch to one another to form a solid picture that would make sense to my dizzied mind. The only thing in my brain was an incessant chant of Silas’ name, his _name_ , and the need that I had to touch him - I wanted to get lost in his embrace, so that whoever I was before, whatever broken piece of shit I’d been turned into, would just disappear. There was only him, and the way that he touched me like I really _mattered_ after all.

   In a sweeping pattern that I was beginning to understand, his lips left my ear after another moment and moved to my jawline. I couldn’t take it anymore - my brain wasn’t telling me that I _couldn’t_ touch him because I didn’t deserve it. My body was telling me that I _had_ to touch him, before everything that I was flew apart into a thousand pieces. I was lost at sea, and Silas King was the only anchor I had.

  My fingers clenched into his shirt, and I could feel my nails scrape for a moment against his skin. My other hand shifted upward, finally touching at his pale flesh, greedily holding his neck so that I could pull him closer to me still. I felt him force his body to shift, to keep up both erect on the bed, and I didn’t care. My body arched, though I could feel each of my injuries screaming in protest.

  Those injuries reminded me of why this was a bad idea - why I didn’t deserve this at all. The aching throb between my legs told me that _I didn’t care anymore._

“ _Fuck._ ” My head was spinning, and I couldn’t get a grip on anything but Silas.

  “I’ve got you,” soft, reassuring, full of heated passion. I knew that he had me, but I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t. I was frozen by that rocking promise - by the knowledge that he really _did_ , and that he _wanted_ to… and that he probably would, for as long as I’d let him.

  I couldn’t let that happen.

  His mouth was suddenly smooth heat against my own, the fruit offered at the Garden of Eden by the Devil himself. Temptation, need, desire - it coursed through me in such a strong surge that I wanted to scream with my craving for it.

  But I couldn’t, because as soon as his mouth touched my own, I remembered the way that Carslile had thrust his fucking filthy prick between my lips and violated that innocence forever… I jerked away, before Silas had to taste that corruption, before the taste of my own profanity forever tainted the memory of whiskey and crimson.

  My head dove, lips finding the pulse of his throat. I wasn’t strong enough to pull away from him completely - I needed to feel him holding me, even while I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t good enough for him. I had to, I had to do it. I had to find the strength, for Silas’ sake. My entire body was shaking violently, because his arm came around me, pulling me closer to his body… and I realized that I was murmuring softly against his skin.

  “ **_Fuck_ ** _._ I can’t do this, Silas... I can’t. You don’t understand. What he did. I’m **_fucking filthy now, I can’t._ ** Carslile, **_he_ ** … **_fuck, I can’t_ ** …” I realized that only a few of the words were actually audible to begin with, and even those punctuated with my agony were hard to understand as more than a mewling gasp.  My breath came in an aching, suddering pant that sent pain rocking through my body like a knife in my ribs. Even breathing, the sweet scent of him flooded my senses, begging me to forget how stupid I was being, to go back to his lips and kiss him until the world melted away.  So close - I was so goddamn close to the gates of Heaven itself, and I was too broken to step inside. I was too tainted for it - the Saints themselves would cast me straight to Hell if I tried, and Hell was my mind that the knowledge of why I was broken.

  “Quinn--”

  I had to cut him off, before he tried to tell me that I was wrong. I couldn’t let him do it. “You deserve _better,_ ” I finally managed to gasp out coherent words, drawing my mouth away from his skin enough to speak clearly. “I’m sorry, I can’t--”

  “Don’t.” The words were sharp, like a slap across my face. They brought me to attention, making me snap my mouth shut so hard that my teeth clicked together. My eyes were wide - it wasn’t his words that were burning across me like a brand. It was the pure and unadulterated _fury_ radiating off of him, so hot that I could almost feel it ignite through me.  “Just… don’t. Don’t let that vindictive fucker ruin you like this. He lied, I swear he did, Quinn. He lies just by existing.”

  I realized that Silas still didn’t understand. My body hurt, my nerves dancing between need and self-loathing. I didn’t know if I had the strength to explain why my voice was hoarse and my lips bruised.

   “He…”

   I _felt_ realization dawn across through his body at my unspoken confession, and my eyes focusing on the curve of his neck watched as his skin turned a stark white of pure _murder._ The vein on his neck pulsed, standing out at the insistence of what I assumed was a clenched jaw.

    _Why did he care so much about me?_ About what had happened - he’d been dodging my advances for months, and now… there was a fury at my own violation that culminated to more care and compassion and outrage than every other person in my entire life had ever cared to give. I couldn’t understand it - my heart ached with it.

    ~~I loved him, so **_fucking_ ** much. ~~  Oh, God, how did this even make sense?

   “Do you trust me, Quinn?” Those words were an echo of earlier, but this time I answered immediately.

  “ _Yes,_ ” the word was thick with the guilt and self-derision that I felt, weighing me down like a confession of my own self-worth.

  “He lied. But I won’t.” His arm was a tight squeeze around me, and I wanted to just live in the feel of that embrace.  “I’ll never find anyone _better_ because there is _nothing wrong with you._ ” My entire body was pulsing in a shudder against his words - silently protesting to the truth of them. I wanted to believe him, _God_ I wanted to believe him. But how could I when my throat burned with the evidence of my own shame?

  “I’m going to remove every inch of him from you if you let me, I swear, but you’re perfect, and nothing and no one will ever change that.” My body was one solid pulse of emotion, but it refused to listen to my fear, because my arms clenched tighter around him. I didn’t deserve him, but I couldn’t let go. I felt one tear slip from my wide eyes - one tiny droplet of betrayal that fell thick and hot from my gaze and onto Silas’ shoulder.

  I stayed there, sheltered in the sweep of his arms for as long as he’d let me - I got my emotions in check, so that it was only one tear that fell, a traitor to my self-control. Finally, I pulled myself back to look at him, only to realize that his eyes had been clenched closed from the anger that I’d felt washing through his body and into my own. He opened them when he sensed me staring, and I was lost once more in the sweet wash of blue, made blazing bright by his promises.

  For a breath, we stared at each other, and then he was raising his hand. I was proud at how I stopped myself from flinching - usually, any form of weakness was rewarded with a sharp crack to my jaw. Silas, instead, traced gentle lines against my face. I could feel the sting of his fingers against my skin, telling me that he was touching a wound, but I didn’t care. That gentle caress in opposition to a scathing strike was something that I didn’t realize my body was starving for. If I hadn’t still felt so disgusted with myself, I might have nuzzled hungrily against his hand. Instead, I watched the expressions slip across his skin like the changing seasons - worry, anger, fear… I couldn’t catch a hold on what he was thinking, though I desperately tried.

  A smile bloomed across his features, sweet summer breaking away the ice of winter, and his words were a warm rush through the air. “Can I kiss you?”

   _Yes._ I wanted it. I’d wanted it since before our first kiss, and I’d burned for it every second after. I was so afraid that he was going to taste Carslile in my mouth, but the perfect heaven of his embrace and the promise that he wouldn’t hurt me… that he would take it _all away_? I couldn’t help myself. My lower lip drew between my teeth, and I bit it gently - I could feel pain there from where I’d been hit, but I didn’t care. Instead, after another second, I nodded. That seemed to be all that he needed, because his arms around me were pulling me close, and the warmth of his mouth was covering my own.

  I would have probably seized in fear again, but the feel of his lips pressed against my own sent me transcendent from my own brain, landing straight into the vast and endless ocean of his passion. His tongue flicked, a heated tease, and I parted my lips eagerly. Instead, the damn _tease,_ he moved to kiss against the corner of my jaw. The sensation was like a thousand lines of tingling pleasure rushing from my neck to my pelvis, and I let out a huffed moan. My fingers flexed, and I was prepared to bring my full on pout to the table, but Silas returned to my lips, and again I felt whole. I didn’t give him a chance to pull away, and I didn’t give myself a chance to overthink it. I wanted to be lost to his taste - I opened my mouth, inviting him in.

  His tongue was like velvet, and he’d clearly been reading the Private Quinn Instruction Manual, because every stroke of that  instrument against my mouth drew me deeper and deeper into the realization that I was completely and utterly _lost_ to him. There was no turning back - there would never be any turning back… and I didn’t want to.

  What I wanted was to follow the aching desires that were burning through my body. I wanted to show Silas what he meant to me - I wanted him to feel just a fraction of the pleasure that was pulsing through my body just through his kiss. Everything about my mouth tasted like the sweetness of his tongue, and I couldn’t remember why I’d been afraid to begin with. One hand wrapped hungrily around his neck, fingers drawing him closer. I deepened the kiss, tongue rolling a soft distraction against his while my other hand sought out its prize.

  After a moment's fumbling, because his kiss was literally _intoxicating,_ I was rewarded for my search with the feel of an aching hardness beneath my palm and Silas King’s gasped curse. I was drunk on the nectarous taste of him, and it had given me the courage to find the boldness that I so often hid behind.

  I let a low, sexy chuckle spill from my throat, and found libidinous satisfaction in the sudden expression of pure frustration on Silas’ face. This… I could do this. I could touch him, and nothing about it would hurt me. “Do I get the rest of you, too?”

  I was rewarded with his head spilling forward, the heat of his breath tickling against my neck and causing my entire body to tingle from the sensation of it. “You are going to be my _undoing,_ ” but God help me, he sounded so eager that I nearly relented on my teasing and just begged him to promise me that I could have this side of him forever.

  But my fingers were still closed around the length of him through his pants, and I was completely unwilling to let go.

  “Is that a yes?” I could hear the slightest tone of pleading in my voice. I knew, on some level, that I was leaving myself completely vulnerable in this moment. He could have told me no - he could have told me that he didn’t want me this way. Everything before this could have been Silas’ attempt to make me feel better… but the arousal beneath my fingers begged to differ.

  “You are the _worst patient,_ ” His voice quaked, and I could see his frustration at the fact that I could see how undone he’d become. My smile deepened, and I let my fingers flick easily against the catch of his pants. I was thankful for the hours upon hours that I trained my dexterity. I’d realized early on in life that I was _good_ with my hands, and I’d been planning on putting it to use with my training in weaponry. The white scars on my knuckles proved no deterrent to my ability to disassemble and reassemble a gun faster than even the most seasoned men on base - and clearly that nimbleness was going to reward me now.  

  Silas was shifting his body, maneuvering so that my quest was easier - though he distracted me completely when he leaned forward. I thought that he meant to hide against my neck again, but a sweet, wet line of heat against my jaw sent a quiver through my entire frame. For just a second, I shivered against him, but my fingers were true. I found the fly of his pants and relished in the sound of the zipper releasing.

   He let out a small sound that could have been in protest, but I wasn’t having it. I let my hand slide easily into his pants. There was a glorious span of skin lightly dusted with short-hairs,  and then I  found myself rewarded with the feel of him hard and smooth beneath my palm. I let out my own small hiss of pleasure, because just the feel of him was perfect. I’d thought about this moment for months, but it was completely different in my head - innocent wooing, whiskey, soft candle light and sweet-nothing confessions. Not tasting like blood and awkwardly splayed on a crimson soaked mattress.

  Honestly, though, I wasn’t complaining. I was realizing, very quickly, that _any way_ I could have Silas King was the exactly **perfect** way.

  God help me, his expression was nearly enough to make me cum myself - his jaw went slack, his blue eyes flaring and then shutting… and for a moment, every expression but that of pure, igneous need was erased from Silas King’s face. In that moment, without worry lines, or fury, or seriousness for the sake of leadership… I realized that the man well and truly looked like a goddamn angel.

  He was _beautiful._

Silas dropped down a few inches onto the bed, his mind clearly not cooperating with his body anymore, but I didn’t care. I shifted my hand so that I could run the calloused length of my grip slowly down his shaft, fingers squeezing in a slight pulse of pressure, a shameless mimic of what it would feel like if he were inside of my clenching body. Just the action of it made him _shake_ , and a low moan was drawn from my chest from pure appreciation - raw, aching, honest need for the man who was trembling above me.

  Instead of letting him know that I was silently worshiping him in my mind, I let a lusty chuckle accent my murmured words. “You’re so fucking perfect, Silas… every inch of you. God,” and then softer, under my breath, “fucking finally…” Finally, we were together, and everything that had been spinning in a chaotic spiral throughout my entire life felt _right._

  “Don’t--” Honeyed, strangled music to my ears, because I could tell by the aching need-laced tone that he wasn’t telling me to stop. His eyes wrenched shut and he spilled his head forward to murmur against my neck. “ _Don’t, I won’t--_ I won’t _last.”_

If I took too long, neither would I. Just the feel of him above me was making my entire body one long line of aching pleasure - each stroke of my hand against him reverberated through me like we were connected. I didn’t want to tell him that if I took my time and absolutely worshipped him like he deserved, I’d probably find my pleasure far before he did, without ever being touched. He already knew that I was inexperienced - he didn’t need to know that the very feel of him beneath my palm was intoxicating and damn near orgasm-inducing.

 I looked up at him beneath my dark lashes and let a slow smile curl across my lips. I could play at confidence. My fingers wrapped around the very base of him and gave a long, slow stroke. “That’s kind of the plan.”

  He looked completely thunderstruck for a moment, and I could see the way that his body was writhing.

  “Ah-- let me take my pants off--”

  My entire body jolted at the thought. A nude Silas King atop me - I wanted it. I wanted it so badly that my entire body clenched with the thought of it - but I knew better. If I was going to do this, if I was going to give him this, I couldn’t get distracted. I couldn’t give him the time to think it through.

  “Nah.”

  And then I fell back back to the careful ministrations that my fingers were playing against the rigid expanse of his dick. My fingers trailed upward, thumb brushing slowly against the sensitive cluster of nerves at the head of his erection. After a moment, I trailed back downward, waiting until my hand touched with the base of his body before giving a gentle squeeze. He tried to move in time with my hand, to raise my pace, but I wasn’t having any of it - if his hips began to gyrate, I lightened on my grip, until it was just the ghost of my fingers telling him to _behave himself._ God, but the torture that was going through my mind at having to take it at such a slow pace, and seeing his body shudder, bow to my touch…

  I just _wanted_ him. He was fucking beautiful, lost to the throes of his passion, his eyes closing slowly again with pleasure. So soft, so trusting - so hard, so _needy._ Contradiction wrapped in a gorgeous package. I leaned forward, letting my tongue run slowly across the shell of his ear to catch his attention, before pressing a gentle kiss against the line of his neck right behind that delicious curve. “I’m okay with this.” My voice was low and husky, and sparkling honesty spilled out gently through my lusty tones, “S’nice to watch you come undone.”

  I hadn’t even known that he _could_ come undone until tonight, but I’d seen him dive through a range of emotions that would make any actor turn green with envy.

  “ _Fuck you,_ ” Heady, whined words, and my entire body gave a violent shudder at the tone of it - I don’t think he realized how sexy he was. I could taste his need for me on the back of my tongue like the sweetest of delicacies - it burned, it nestled into the hollow of my chest where I’d never known I was missing something, and it made a _home_ there.  I don’t think that he realized that just that tone put an image in my head of him leaning over my body, his strong shoulders flexing, his perfect ass a line of movement as he thrust against me; for just a second, I could feel it, a hot line of passion from my pelvis spilling upward and into my chest. I ~~loved him so much~~  needed him.

  “Yes, _please,”_ My entire tone ached with the words, and my body leaned into him - I could feel my prick dripping with salty precum just from our proximity, from the promise of his words. I couldn’t handle it - I couldn’t handle him. I nearly let him go, begged him to just _take me_ right then and there… but there was a delicious eruption of warmth in my hands, and Silas King graced me with the most gorgeous cry that I’d ever heard in my life. The sound of it burned every nerve that I had, sent me shuddering against him - but my hand just held him tighter, pumping hungrily at his length while that warm slickness marked my palm and made me want to cry like a sweet sinner who had found redemption. As another wave of pleasure caught him, it seemed to strike away all sense of balance that he had, because he came spilling forward.

  I was all too happy to catch him against me with an aching kiss. Our lips spoke the words that we couldn’t utter to one another in perfect synchronization, promises and pleading. Our tongues made love, and all that I could do was ride the sensation of pleasure that was so overwhelming inside of me that I could have sworn I’d come to orgasm with Silas. My fingers stroked at him, finally giving peace to his oversensitive flesh to run lines through the curls above.

  Finally, Silas broke away. I nearly cried out at the lack of his lips against my own, before my brain gave a small burst of thanks for the sudden ability to breathe. All that I could do was cling against him, my entire body still one hot line of desire, and realize that I could do this for the rest of my life.

  I could spend the rest of my life with this man, and no angel in heaven would have ever been so lucky. No wonder the devil was thrown from Heaven - they couldn’t have handled Silas there.

  Suddenly, a look streaked his face, and I had a feeling that he’d realized that I wasn’t exactly in tip-top shape. “You are the _worst_ patient,” it was a little mutter of exasperation, tinged with need. Petulant, I let my fingers circle again at the tip of his length, still slicked with pleasure - perfect proof of how much he’d enjoyed my actions. I couldn’t stop the grin that was stretching across my face, even though I couldn’t explain to him why it was there.

  Why it was his perfect, amazing, sweet, sheltering presence that drove me to insanity, desire, and peace all at once.    

  “I am the _best_ patient,” I let that petulance turn into a purr, and I actually felt Silas’ cock against my hand give a defiant jerk, as though to threaten me that he could certainly be ready again if he had to. Confession of my emotions was at the tip of my tongue, and I decided that I’d rather convey it through another kiss - my mouth caught against his, and I let my tongue explore the depths of him, the taste of him. I wanted every inch of his mouth to be committed to perfect memory, because this was the first time that I’d ever felt so happy and _complete_ , and I wanted to make sure that I had the thought of it forever burned into my brain.

   Silas’ fingers moved as we kissed, slipping down the length of my elbow to touch against my wrist. I had a feeling that I knew what he wanted, but I was completely unwilling to give it to him - it wasn’t as though he was actually protesting. I knew that he was probably right - there were parts of my body that still needed to be attended to. The truth was, I’d already dulled out the pain. I knew that it was there - I could feel the sharp slice along my back just as I could feel the air moving in my lungs… but it wasn’t important to me anymore. I’d learned a long time ago that pain could be compartmentalized - at least, physical pain could.

  Silas tore me from my thoughts with a gentle pressure to my wrist, and I pulled back from our kiss with a tiny sound of protest. I saw a small look of incredulity cross his features, and I almost grinned - instead, I was granted another small kiss.

   _Fine, but I’m not done yet._ My fingers quickly shifted from his pants to slide beneath his shirt - his body was a safe haven, and I wanted to stay forever. If I left, I’d have to go back to thinking about what had happened, and I wasn’t willing to do that yet. Instead, I let my need spill through my expression. _Don’t make me stop touching you, Silas… I don’t want to go back_ _to reality just yet._

His head moved back and forth, slowly - negatory. I frowned, but I knew that I’d stop the second he asked. “No, wait. Just a bit?” He frowned at me, blue eyes rocking across my visage, “I need to patch you up first, then I’ll let you touch me all you want to, okay?”

   _You don’t know what you’re promising there, Silas King._ My mind purred the response silently, but I couldn’t help to voice my protest in a half-hearted attempt to make him let me _stay_ with what I was doing now. Touching him, I could forget everything else. His skin was intoxicating, the sight of his blue eyes widening in pleasure like some magical opiate that took me to a higher plane.

  “You already put my leg together,” I pouted, feeling my brows draw together. If I could have explained to him then that I knew how to take damage and keep functioning, I would have… but I wasn’t about to put into his mind an image of the already broken thing that I was. If Silas King never knew about my father and the childhood that he had so _graciously_ granted me, I could certainly deal with that. He stared down at me like I was some kind of fallen star, found whole and gleaming… but he still seemed determined. Well, _shit._ “And my back feels fine.” Truth, sweet, honest truth. I didn’t want to roll over.

  I didn’t want to be on my stomach again. Not now, and possibly not _ever._ Just thinking about it threatened to spill fear through my body, but I stamped the emotion down and let my fingers flex against Silas’ skin instead. Sweet Silas, whose pleasure still scented the air like a perfume. Yes… I wanted to be lost in that, instead.

  “Your back feels fine right now because you’re drunk on sex.” Damn him and his logical brain - he didn’t understand. I couldn’t make him understand, because I couldn’t get the words to spill out of my throat. I couldn’t tell him that I didn’t _care_ how much it hurt, as long as I didn’t have to think about it. He was the drug that I’d been looking for all along - I’d happily get high on his smile and never come down.

   Of course, Silas King’s logic threatened to puncture that cloud. “Trust me, this is going to be a real bitch tomorrow, and it’ll only be worse if I don’t help it along.”

   Well, damn it.

  I could have told him about the broken ribs that I’d suffered growing up - the massive burn on my thigh that had kept me from walking properly for two weeks. I could have told him about nights spent clumsily patching my own lacerations up… but my mouth wouldn’t open. I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t going to give him an image of child-Quinn, broken and battered worse than what he was seeing now, and all alone in fixing it. I just wished that he’d stop thinking so hard and kiss me again - his kisses could literally fix anything, I was convinced.

  “Can’t we just… forget about it for now?” I heard my voice take on a small, desperate tinge. I was fighting at letting this moment go, fighting that horrible slip back into reality where I would have to acknowledge what had happened. The fact that he cared enough to want to fix me up was only making it harder to win the battle. Even though I saw conflict and anger and regret cross his features, I could tell that I was beaten before he answered.

  “We can’t,” His voice was a sacchariferous apology. For a second, my throat felt tight. I fought the need to close my eyes, to turn away. Already, the slice on my back was becoming more and more present in my mind, and the memory of receiving it was threatening to crawl its way up my throat in the form of a scream. But I wouldn’t do that - if I did, Silas might have very well left the room to take care of Carslile then and there… and I couldn’t have him doing that. I swallowed that scream instead, forcing it into my stomach with a sickening wave of nausea as my prize. My entire body trembled with the effort.

  “Trust me. Please… let me erase him.”

  I only shook harder, because I knew that I was going to have to put on a brave face to keep from breaking. I didn’t want to - _God, I didn’t want to get onto my stomach -_ but I didn’t want to disappoint Silas. I didn’t want to look weak; if anything had been instilled into my mind as a young child, it was that weakness was a _sin._ I frowned, my free hand clenching, but I nodded quickly. Looking into his eyes, I tried to draw strength from that sweet, sky colored Heaven… and I nodded again. I could do this - if it was for Silas, I could do this. He smiled, as though he could tell that every ounce of my effort was for his benefit, not mine.

  I felt his fingers move, sliding beneath the fabric of his shirt to connect with my own. Quickly, quicker than I would liked, and a sure sign of the fear that I was desperately trying to stamp down, I latched onto his hand. I wasn’t going to give it back, and I don’t think that any amount of begging could have made me until I was good and ready.

  With his hand in my own like the only anchor amongst a sea of terror, I slipped my fingers from his shirt. I shifted my eyes from his long enough to let the pure horror that I was feeling wash over my face for just a second, but that was all I needed. I steeled myself, refusing to take my hands from his frame… and I rolled, first to my side, and then warily to my stomach.

  Instantly, I had the sensation of Carslile above me, his knife diving into my skin and his body a hard weight against my own. My fingers tightened in Silas’ and I swallowed another scream. I wasn’t going to do this - my eyes burned, but I wasn’t going to cry.

  The warmth of Silas’ lips pressing a soft apology against my neck was the only thing that quelled the stinging of those damn tears. “I’ve got you, Quinn.” I could hear him moving behind me - liquid sloshing in the emptying whiskey bottle, the whisper of the steri-strip paper, and something else. I was trying to ignore the line of pain along my back, but now that I was being forced to acknowledge it, it was harder than I would have liked. I couldn’t tell where Silas was looking, or what he was going to do… and then there was movement, and a sting at the base of my skull.

  Oh, yeah… I’d been hit there, hadn’t I?

  My fingers tightened in Silas’ grip again and I let out a low hiss of pain. He was thorough, though, and I knew that he wasn’t going to let the wound be until it was well and perfectly clean. I focused on the feel of my fingers clenched in his, trying to tune out the sensation of whiskey tenderly begging a confession of agony from the split skin I was telling to be silent.

  He fussed at my scalp and down my neck for a moment more, and then I felt him pause above me. I knew where he was going next, and it took everything inside of me not to beg him to _please, stop_ , because I didn’t want to feel it. I didn’t want to remember.

  Whiskey spilled against the curve of my spine, and my entire body threatened to spasm. I held still as best I could, but it only caused my frame to shiver all the more - I was remembering the cold bite of military grade steel dragging across my flesh, and even the sensation of the rag so close to my wound couldn’t overpower that visceral memory.

  Above me, Silas was murmuring soft words - but honestly, I couldn’t hear them. I focused as best I could on the tone of his voice instead. What he said didn’t matter - the fact that he was here did. He hadn’t been there when Carslile was doing this… so there was no reason for me to feel that pain all over again. There was no reason for me to let that bastard ruin everything _all over again_ , even though I had to fight myself to keep the sensation down. I focused on Silas’s voice, and the feeling of the rag wiping careful circles against my skin, moving in a line down my shoulder and spine towards the upturn of my ass cheek. He wasn’t even _touching_ the wound yet, but my body was begging me to ask him to stop. I was pissed at myself, because I couldn’t control my mind better than this.

  I was pissed, because Silas was seeing how much I quivered, and I couldn’t stop myself.

  I was pissed, because I was _afraid._

“I’m going to clean the wound now, Quinn. Just a little longer, and we’ll be done.” I clung to the clarity of his voice, and my grip tightened on his fingers. My lip quivered, but I hid it against the pillow. I could feel the strength of my hold on his hand actually making my arm shake… but I managed to hold myself still. I was okay…

  Silas would make me okay.

  Whiskey stung against the wound in full, and I had to bite back the scream that I’d swallowed before - it was all teeth and claws, and it wouldn’t be quelled. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. I swallowed quickly, and then trying to focus on the fact that Silas was making as quick of work as he could along the wound.

  Every inch that he moved brought a memory of what had happened to my mind - and it was only Silas’ voice punctuating the silence that helped me not to lose my sanity. I could hear small whimpers involuntarily spilling from my throat - that scream in one shattered piece after another, clawing its way from my throat in fractured facets of horror. I couldn’t stop it;. I had to make due with letting it out in small, agony filled sounds.

  I was only glad that Silas didn’t realize that I wasn’t making the sounds from the pain that he was causing, but from the memory of what had been. Just being on my stomach made me feel vulnerable, weak… and it was a feeling that I couldn’t stave off.

  The last soft tug of steri-strips against the curve of my shoulder gave me relief - I sat, gathering myself. I wanted to get _up,_ but Silas wasn’t finished with me. I felt his palm stroke softly along the curve of my spine, and I could feel the tension quivering from my body into the touch of his hand. His fingers tightened in mine once more, and then I felt the wash of his warm breath against my neck

  And then Silas King’s lips were on my skin again, and the edge of my nightmarish memory was instantly chased away by the champion that was his kiss. I lost count after a dozen, but he started at the base of my neck and slowly worked his way along the length of my freshly closed injury. Each kiss was like a healing elixer, and it drew another drop of the poisonous memory from my flesh until I could focus on the sensation of _him_ , instead. I couldn’t completely erase the pain from my body, but I could feel the shadows of Carslile’s presence slip away under his tender ministrations.

  A sudden flick of his tongue against the curve of my ass drew my thoughts completely away from anything logical, and straight into the planes of carnal desire.  All thought of fear left my brain in a wash of need that drew a gasp from my throat, covered by a low purr at the feel of him pressing another quick kiss to the moistened spot that his tongue had left behind.

  Silas began to trail up along the curve of my spine again, but this time it wasn’t a labor of medical purposes. It was needy, heated kisses that brought shiver after shiver from my body - it was hard for me to stay laying against the mattress again, but this time it was because I wanted so much to move up, into the sensation of his mouth… his achingly slow, teasing, delicious, _devilish_ mouth.

  Fingers slipped up from my heel, along my calf, and to the curve of my thigh, and every touch of his mouth, of his fingers, caused another jerk to escape my body, until I was nearly biting his pillow to keep the small sounds from escaping my throat. My mind was exploding in a starburst of need and wanton desire as his kisses trailed up to my neck, along my hairline, before pressing _just there_ at the sensitive hollow spot beneath my ear.

  For just a second, it was like Silas lanced straight through me, gripping my libido in his tender, caring fingers and stroking it to full attention. I don’t think he meant to tease me when he spoke, but his voice stroked along my spine, tingling against my very _at attention_ nether regions. “You’re back’s all done. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  Words! What in the _fuck_ were words. I had to swallow once hard, huffing aloud at my complete inability to formulate coherency for a second. When I could manage intelligent communication, it was half desire, half accusation. “Why do you feel _so good_ ?"  ~~When can I feel more of you?~~ _~~All of you~~.  _ “It’s fucking sinful.”

  I felt his lips curve into a slow grin as he answered me. “You sure know how to compliment a man.” I sank into the sweet sensation of that grin as he added, “Try not to ruin the bedding, won’t you? We can get to that in a minute.”

  His words sent a pulse of yearning through me so strong that it drew a primal sound from my throat. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind then, and most of them were positively carnal in nature - until one singular one sang above the rest.

   _He is perfect._

I knew it to be true, and I knew that was why it stung when he slowly pulled away from my frame. I heard the sloshing of liquid again, and my body went icy on the inside. There was only one other place that I could think of that needed his careful, cleaning attention.

   _Oh, please… just don’t._ The thought of Silas going _there,_ to see me in all of my perfectly shamed glory was nearly enough to undo me for an entirely different reason. My fingers clenched at his own, a soft reminder of the fact that I still had them trapped in my grip. The tension of my hold intensified when I felt the warmth of the wetted cloth slicking against the cheeks of my ass.

  Under any other circumstance, Silas touching me there would have been erotic beyond words… and now I had to worry about the fact that he’d see bloodstains and my shredded dignity. The only thing that kept me still was the feel of his fingers response to my own, a gentle reminder that he was with me.

  “I’ve got you, Quinn, it’s just me. You can trust me; I promise, I’m never going to hurt you.” I don’t think that he understood the weight of his words - the aching sincerity that caressed across my senses like a salve for a slow burn that had been eating away at my soul all along. I _knew_ that he was telling me the truth. I knew that he would never hurt me.

  Honestly, it was almost more frightening than never having felt that sweet sense of security before. I’d never known what I was missing - never known this peace. Now that I had, the knowledge that something could take it away from me terrified me more than any threat of physical harm ever could… because I realized, in that perfect moment of promises and clarity, that to lose Silas King would be to lose myself completely.

  The sensation of the rag slipping down along my left cheek brought a low hiss from my throat “Don’t--” _Don’t look, Silas… please._

“ _Easy_. I’m not going to hurt you.” Even the soothing tone of his voice made my heart thunder in my chest so violently that I felt like it was trying to escape. I could still smell the scent of his sweet pleasure in the air, and my fingers hadn’t left the tight grip of his own… and for just a moment, I convinced myself that I was braver than I really was, because I heard a response spill out on the wings of shaking breath.

  “Okay.”

  He took me at my word, and I think that part of it was to get it over and done with as quickly as possible. My eyes clenched shut tight, and I forced the images that threatened to overtake my senses away, and filled my mind with the thought of Silas’ burning sky blue eyes. My breath was so tight in my chest that my lungs were threatening to burst, but it was so hard to let it ache out… because I was afraid that if I did, it would be a whimper. I was trying _so hard_ to be brave for Silas, and it was taking everything that I had inside of me. When the rag dipped down, working against the sore ring of muscle that led to my bruised depths, I bit down on my lower lip hard enough that the pain of it burned through me - it was the only thing that stopped a small scream from spilling out. My fingers clenched so hard against the sheets that I heard my knuckles pop - I held it tight so that I wouldn’t accidentally break Silas’ fingers.

  But the rag was moving then, and I finally managed to let a small breath ease out of my chest, before the dizzying sensation of a lack of oxygen made me pass out. As quick as it left me, I sucked it back in, my oxygen-starved lungs begging for it.

  “I’m done.” _Thank fucking God_ . “Here, you can roll back over now. It’s not as bad as it looked; I didn’t even need a layer of tape.” Someday, if Silas knew me well enough, he’d look back on this moment and realize that it was _never_ the pain that had been the problem.

   I had to take a few minutes before I even thought about moving - I needed to school my face back into the semblance of something calm, and I had to get my breathing under at least an ounce of control. The sensation of Silas’ fingers stroking calmingly along my back was the the first sweet lullaby that I’d ever experienced - physical music soothing through my body until I finally felt a small sliver of calm permeate the fear that was like a block of ice in my core. Silas would melt through that, and let the monster that hid in the center wash away.

  “You know,” his voice spilled through my thoughts again, and I nearly smiled at the way that he seemed very hard to try to force the words to seem casual. My body shifted slightly, and I wanted to look up at him then. “I’ve been wondering how I was going to get you back in my rack. You manage to make it much more appealing.”

  I couldn’t resist the urge to turn and look at him then. I had so many questions - I’d been making my thoughts and desires quite clear for months, and he’d never given even the slightest inclination that he wanted to have anything to do with me. Had he really been trying to figure out how to get me back here - when a simple crook of his finger would have brought me running? Or… was he just shining me on in light of the circumstances?

  I didn’t know, and I couldn’t ask. Instead, I tried for sexy, but heard the small plea that was my voice as I spoke, “You can come down here and join me?”

  I saw a flash of something on his face, but it was gone as soon as it’s arrived. “Later,” the sweet promise wasn’t enough to stop me from nearly pouting again. I wanted his arms around me - I wanted the feel of his body against mine, even if it was just to _hold me_ , to erase the demons that were still chasing inside of my head. “If I settle down now, I won’t get back up again until tomorrow. You know I can’t leave the room like this.”

   _Why the fuck not?_ My brain grumbled. I’d be fine with him staying in bed, beside me, until tomorrow.

  Hell, I’d be fine with him staying in bed beside me forever. Cleanliness of the room be damned.

  I realized that a pout had formed along my visage when Silas bent in the most awkward of positions to kiss at my protruding lower lip. I would have felt guilty at the way that he contorted his spine to make it happen, but I was too busy enjoying the sensation of his mouth, so soft and warm against my own. I couldn’t describe his taste - so perfect and heady, like Heaven and Hell all in one… sweet bliss wrapped in the most decadent of temptation. He was purity and burning flames all at once, and it was ambrosia on my tongue.

  He pulled back from me before I’d even managed to properly get a taste of him, and I heard protest spilling from me of its own volition. “ _Sil!_ ”

  “Quinn,” Oh, that fucking delightfully, sexy, teasing, tempting, _perfect_ bastard. “Unless you’re going to sleep, roll over. Though if you are going to sleep, you should still roll over.” I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted his mouth on mine. “The stitches will hold,” _I want to kiss you again,_ “If that’s why you're hesitating.”

  “Just _kiss_ me again.” Damn it.

  “I’ll kiss you all you want me to kiss you, but you have to roll back first.”

  Silas King couldn’t have been an angel after all - clearly he was too damn teasing. Was that why the Devil had been cast out of Heaven, after all? Because he was _such_ a _tease?_

 _“Sil!”_ My voice was complete, perfect, utter petulance, wrapped in a plea.

  “Nope. You can’t even grab me from that position.” Grab him? Confusion lit through me for a moment, and my brain turned over the possibility of his words slowly. Was he going to let me, then? Were we finally done with this torturous game of _fix Quinn_ , and ready to move on to the _touch Quinn_ phase? Oh, _yes… please._ My eyes widened slightly, fixing against his stare, and I felt a slow smirk spread across my face, like my own wanton last was made visible by way of my full lips.

  “So…?” His voice punctuated the air, telling me to go ahead and get a move on… so that I could get a _move_ on.

  Even with the promise that he offered pressing against my senses like the soft wings of an angel, it took me a moment to untwine my fingers from the sheet. The digits had actually gone rigid and stiff from my grip. I took just a second to work them open and shut once, and then quickly moved my liberated hand to slide behind Sil’s neck as I rolled my body over. It was a perfect, fluid motion that rewarded my effort with the sensation of his lips against my own in a soft kiss. All the while, our fingers were twined together, like two _lovers._

_Lover._ I liked that.

  Just the feel of our bodies curled so sweetly against one another stole my breath away - but that was okay, because Silas was breathing that life back into me, and I felt so perfectly content, so whole that I didn’t _need_ to breathe. I just needed him. My fingers on his neck flexed, pulling him even closer as I tilted my head to open my mouth wider - his tongue instantly licked inside, tracing the edged roof of my mouth like an artist. The sensation of it drew small sounds from my throat that were audible only when he finally broke away with a gasp.

  I would have protested, but he stayed so close that our breath still mingled, lovers dancing in the night, and my contentment remained. Here, this close, there was nothing in my mind but Silas King and his overwhelmingly amazing presence. Still, the longer he strayed from my hungry mouth, the more I wanted to taste him, until finally I couldn’t stand it any more.

  Fingers flexed, and I pulled him close again. My head turned to kiss a sweet line of unspoken confessions against his cheek, along the outline of his jaw. I kissed from the crook where jaw met ear down to his throat, and then I found that I was really an insatiable rake, because I couldn’t help myself. Kisses turned into soft nipping, and I felt the ripple of pleasure through Silas’ body, in tandem with the way that his head tilted to grant me delicious access to the strong line of his throat. My mouth paid tribute to the perfect God before me, kissing, nibbling, _worshipping._

“Quinn..?” I didn’t like the logic that was threatening to ruin the moment. My hand played softly against his neck, the only acknowledgement I was willing to give him. I was listening - I would always listen… but I didn’t want to stop.

  And like he could read my mind-- “Hey, stop for a minute.”

   _Nah._

  My teeth found the knotted, tense muscle at the base of his throat, and I let my nibble turn into a sharp, teasing bite - my silent protest against his _logic._ My teeth sank into that smooth flesh, just enough that I could taste him, and Silas lurched forward as a small sound of pure pleasure spilled from his throat.

   _Oh, he’d_ **_liked_ ** _that._ I made a mental reminder and stored it safely away for later.

  A slow grin slipped across my visage, but it didn’t stop me from gently working my mouth against his skin, applying enough pressure to let him feel my teeth without leaving a mark that would damage government property and get us both into more trouble than we’d like.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it when Silas’ hand scrambled for the sheets, fingers knotting into the fabric as though he needed something to anchor him back to that logic that he so desperately tried to cling to. God, seeing him give way even that much to show how he was feeling inside was so _fucking sexy._ My tongue played a soft, teasing wet line against the flesh that I’d seized as my captive - and I had the pleasure of watching Silas completely lose himself to my careful ministrations for achingly perfect heartbeats of time.

  Finally, his head fell forward to hit the pillow beside my face,and I heard him try to squeeze proper verbalization out through needy whining that made my cock absolutely burn with desire.

  “No, please?” Well, damn. I was going to have to stop now. I would never do more than Silas asked for, but I could still enjoy the sound of him whimpering out his words like some lust filled demon before I removed my mouth. “There’s--” He had to draw in a slow, evened breath, and I let my teeth graze the line of his shoulder, “There’s something I want to do? Promise you can sink your teeth into me all you want when we’re done.”

  Promises, promises. I don’t think that he realized what he was roping himself into. I was never going to get tired of him. His touch, his taste, his eyes looking at me with scorching heat… it was intoxicating. I’d never really drank much, never been addicted to any drug other than adrenaline… and yet, I was already hooked on Silas. I had been from the moment I saw him, and tonight was only solidifying that into a tangible thing that ran through the very core of my spine and fueled my brain, my heart, the air in my lungs. He coursed through me, like a slow burning fire… and I wanted nothing more than to bask in those flames.

  I took a moment to let out a curious _purr_ as to what this ‘thing’ he wanted to do was, and then allowed my mouth bite down along his frame in sharp, punctuated nips until I came to the the taut muscle, anchored against his shoulder.

  God, but he tasted good. And _God,_ did the protested, needy, heady sounds that spilled from his chest send pleasure racing through my entire frame.

  In turn, Silas moved to nuzzle against my throat - I lost the question of _Why did I have to stop_ to the sensation of his lips hungrily playing against the hollow where he pressed himself. My breath caught in my chest, and my body arched lightly against him - I loved the feeling of it. Each kiss that he pressed to my skin ran a direct line to my pelvic region, until everything inside of me was one, long line of _need._ And fuck me, but he was so good at the teasing chase of kisses that he drew down my body… so, for a moment, I didn’t realize that he was trailing in an achingly desirably downward spiral that made my fingers squeeze his all the tighter. Those kisses played a hot line, like the dots on a map, leading straight down to my own hidden treasure. When I felt his breath against the soft dust of hair that ran from my naval to…

  Oh, God… he was so close to _me_ now, and my body was absolutely squirming in reaction. I knew that there was no way that he could miss the rather _obvious_ arousal so close to his chin, and I would have flushed in embarrassment if there was any damn blood flow left in my body that wasn’t going in the opposite direction of my face. Watching him kiss a line down my chest had been hard enough - to see him poised between my legs now? My eyes were wide, my breath fighting to spill into my lungs at all. I’d pushed myself up onto one elbow so I could watch his movements, his dark hair marking the trail of his sweet, searching lips.

  I had _never_ been so aroused in my entire life… I’d never experienced this in my entire life.

  Oh, God… Silas was so…

  Fucking Hell, he made me forget how to use words completely. Instead, primal desire spilled from my lips in the form of a moan that made me sound like a wanton thing. Finally, I managed to ache one word out.

  My _favorite_ word.

  “Sil?” I would have spent the whole night worshiping his gorgeous body - he didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to do anything… I still felt unworthy of his attentions. But _oh,_ I wanted him to. More than I’d ever thought to want anything in my entire life, _I wanted him to_ _._

  My mind was slowly clouding over with a veil of desire that made my body hyper aware of every touch that he delivered. His thumb made a slow. tantalizing circle against my inner thigh, and I could feel my pulse beating against his touch - hard evidence of how much I wanted him, coming in a thrumming tempo that I couldn’t slow down. And his lips… God, his lips had curved into the most achingly beautiful, teasing smile that I’d ever seen in my life. My entire body was one wreck of raw nerve endings… and I could feel myself tensing in sweet anticipation for what was going to come next.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just relax.” And then his head moved, and there was the press of his soft, warm mouth just _there_ , in a place that I’d _never_ felt a mouth before. A sound that was half desperation, half confession of my newness to this all crawled from my chest. It burst forward loud enough that I almost wanted to hide my face… but that would mean that I couldn’t watch Silas, and that wasn’t something that I was willing to give up.

  Every sense that I had came into sharp focus, directed at Silas King and his absolutely _sinful_ actions.

  Wet heat tore through me like a tidal wave, wiping away any semblance of sanity that I had left - Silas’ tongue played a wicked line along the side of my aching length, and I could do nothing but let out low, purring moans in answer. I didn’t have the mental ability to speak the words that were echoing somewhere in the back of my mind.

_First time, Silas._

_First time with you._

_No one else. No one but you. Ever._

But I couldn’t say those words, and I could only arch my body and let out an aching sigh of pleasure when he moved to nuzzle against the soft dusting of hair that spilled from belly to shaft after delivering a soft kiss to my blazing flesh.

After a teasing moment that spanned an eternity, Silas moved upward, and I felt the heat of his breath against the sensitive head of my dick for just a moment before his tongue came out, delivering a slow,  languid lick along the slit of my flared hood… and then his head was moving down, and my entire body burst into an explosion of starbursts and pleasure. The heat of his mouth, wrapped around the swollen head of my shaft was nearly enough to make me come then and there, a confession of desire against his tongue. I felt my fingers scramble, looking for some new purchase that wasn’t his sweet flesh - I found it in his collar, my nails digging so hard that I felt them scrape his skin. A wild whimper flew from my chest, and for a second, I was blind by how _fucking good_ his mouth felt.

It was all warm, wet heat and pressure, a tightness that seemed to be begging me to completely give myself over - and I would, oh, I would give him _anything_ he wanted as long as he kept doing what he was doing. His tongue ran a teasing circle around the head of my length, and his blue eyes scorched as they looked up into my own. That gaze seemed to burn through me, and I wanted to just fall into it - to fall into everything that he was and never have to let go. His mouth came down slowly, swallowing my shaft an agonizing inch at a time… and I nearly cried then, because nothing had ever felt so good, or so torturous all at once.

  I’d never seen anyone stare at me with such intensity - I could see emotion flickering through his eyes like a kaleidoscope of sensation. In tandem with the way that he seemed completely _intent_ on _killing me_ with the slow pace that his mouth shifted, sucking against my prick like a damn _master of everything…_

  “Oh, mmm… fucking… please… stop teasing me, damn it, Sil. I can’t take much more of this…” I could hear the way that the words slurred from my throat on the wings of a moan that made them more a blur of wanton begging than anything else - I shifted my hips instead, hoping to convey the message more clearly.

   _If you don’t stop teasing me, I’m literally going to die._

  He hummed, sending aching vibrations through my ragged nerves, but he picked up the pace of his ministrations. I watched  his dark head begin to dip up and down, faster and faster with each devastatingly engulfing motion. There was only the sound of his mouth working wetly against me, and my breath coming in sharp gasps that sped faster and faster until everything started to spin.

  His hand came around, sliding between us to grab at my ass, and my entire body jolted with the sensation of it. It wasn’t the touch - it wasn’t even the feel of his mouth sinking my cock into his throat over and over again - it was a perfect mixture of all of that, and the sudden, burning, aching, _possessive_ look that passed across his face.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I heard his name rip from my chest in a shouted confession of love, in the form of my favorite word.

  “ _Siiiiillll!_ ” He swallowed me down again as pleasure burst through me, stronger than anything that I’d ever felt before. His tongue licked and lapped at my length, his head bobbing to drink down the evidence of my orgasm - but I couldn’t see anything. I could only see bursts of color, and at the center, a gorgeous blue that was the shade of Silas King’s eyes. I faintly heard the noises that were spilling from my throat - soft, aching, breathy moans that told the story of exactly _how amazing_ Silas was.

  I think I lost a few moments in time, riding high on the cloud of pleasure that Silas had raised me to with his dark wings and devilish tongue, but suddenly he was crawling up the bed to cover my sweating, shaking body with his own… and his mouth found mine.

  I could taste myself, sugary and salty all at once on his tongue as he kissed me… and in that minute, I would have come again if I’d had the strength. Instead, I moaned happily against his lips, my eyes fluttering to stay open under the weight of just how _perfect_ he was.

  What in the hell had I done to deserve the attentions of such a man? I didn’t think I’d ever figure it out.

  I knew that I was never going to have enough of him though - if he’d left me then and there, I would have completely shattered. I’d taken beating and abuse for my entire life, but I was starkly and stunningly aware of the fact that the man, so softly kissing me, held more power over me than anyone had before. He could _unmake me_ with a few simple words - I was going into this with eyes wide open to the risks, with full knowledge that I would _die_ inside if Silas left me now… and I didn’t care.

  Just a moment of his mouth pressed against my own was worth an eternity of never knowing him.

  “Worth it?” I nearly startled, because the question rocked in tandem with my thoughts… but, of course, he had no idea what I was thinking. Worth it - was the wait worth it. God, he really didn’t know how amazing he was, did he?

   “Fuck,” Eloquence, thy name was _not_ Quinn. I still couldn’t formulate proper, coherent sentences. instead, I let my dazed voice ache out a delicious question. “ _Yes._ Again?”

   I could see the burning pride and satisfaction in his gaze, and when he said, “Later. Don’t worry. Later will come.” My body burned with the knowledge that I could have him _again._

My heart burned with the knowledge that I wanted him _forever._

  God, I wanted him again. I wanted him _now._

  “Fuck later,” my voice was an achingly low timbre, and it vibrated through my entire chest. I realized that my statement had a double meaning, and I knew in that second that I’d certainly meant for it to. I was suddenly and completely _furious_ that there was the horrible feel of fabric between us - I wanted Silas… I wanted to feel all of him, sleek and sweaty and perfect against me.

  The feel of his nose skimming against my shoulder, the sound of him taking a deep breath… it didn’t make my want for him any easier - I wondered, in that moment, if there was something wrong with me. Surely I shouldn’t have been _feeling_ this way, so soon after what had happened. Being this close to Silas though, it was _all_ that I could feel. All that I knew was that I wanted him wholly and completely. I wanted to feel him, until there was nothing else to feel.

  I couldn’t explain it, and I didn’t know if it was right or wrong, or if it made me a bad person… but I didn’t care. I completely embraced the fact that what I ~~wanted~~   _needed_ was Silas. There was no way that I was going to feel whole without him.

  And just now, he was thwarting my needs with _logic._

I almost hated his logic as much as I hated his pants.

  “You need rest. We both do. So it will have to wait for at least a little while,” A low growl escaped my throat. It wasn’t an omission to his demands, but it was the best that I could do. I knew that he was just worried about me - I couldn’t explain to him that the sensation of pain on my body was already fading away. I knew that it was there, and I even knew the limits that I could push myself to before it would be too much. But I wasn’t feeling it. The only thing that my body wanted to feel was leaning over me, smelling like sweat and Heaven. My mind was dizzy with the sensation of pleasure and _Silas_ , and I couldn’t seem to form the words to even try to explain.

  I could, however, ask a question. “What happens now?”

  I was almost tense when the words left my lips. Even though I didn’t think that he would say it, what if the answer was the one word that would break me?

   _Nothing._

I didn’t want to think of the fear that momentarily trilled through my heart at the threat of that word. Instead, I let my breath catch in my chest and waited for him to answer.

  “Now I finish putting you back together, so we can get some rest.” We - I lingered on the word _we,_ because it sounded like we were going to be doing the _resting_ together.

  Never you mind the fact that I had no intention of sleeping. Silas didn’t need to know about my penchant for nightmares.

  My mind strayed from my rebellious thoughts as Silas brought his hand to run soft fingertips over my shoulder, along the length of my arm. A small little shiver drew from my frame, but I let him continue on his path, until both of his hands took hold of mine. I’d all but forgotten the fact that my knuckles were a mess from where I’d punched Carslile. The fact that I’d done any damage to him at all was a point of pride, but it hadn’t really done me any good in the end. Silas was the only thing that had saved me.

  I didn’t even bother to flick my gaze down to those wounded digits - they were covered in far more scars than I could explain, and some of them I didn’t want to. They could all find themselves lost in a sea of punching bullying mouths, and no one had to know about the times that they’d been shredded on glass and laminate.

  Silas’ touch was careful as ever, his eyes and fingers probing over every inch of my hand. My fingers flexed well enough that I assumed nothing was broken, but I was enjoying the sensation of his careful labors. He checked the range of motion on both of my hands - their ability to stretch to curl, all with careful fingers that were more gentle than any doctor’s caress. I only let out a small hiss of pain when he brought the whiskey soaked rag up to wipe at my wounds.

  Already, my body was burning in needy anticipation for what I knew was coming. I was quickly becoming addicted to the sensation of Silas King kissing my wounds better, and I realized that it wasn’t an altogether healthy thing. I was far more willing to get _hurt_ , if it meant I got this treatement in return.

  When the rag moved away, it was replaced with his lips - soft kisses and gently, wet flicks of his tongue that made my body jerk on the inside, my stomach clenching and sharp little zings of pleasure coursing through me. I could feel him smile against my skin.

  “Sil--”

  He interrupted the question that I hadn’t even formulated with a question of his own.

  “Do they feel better?”

    _What was he talking about? Words… thoughts… oh, my hands._

I nodded. Magic kisses - the man had magic kisses that could take literally _any_ pain away. I was sure of it.

   Speaking of kisses, it had been far too long since I’d felt his mouth against mine, and I was craving the taste of him again. I wanted to stay drunk on his flavor - so that I never had to come down from this sweet high. His lips tasted like whiskey and crimson, and burned with the memory of that first kiss we’d shared, soft and on the edges of the pleasure we’d experienced tonight. When we pulled back to breath, I moved my lips to skim happily along his jawline, committing the curve of it to memory.

  My mission of memorizing every inch of him was interrupted by his voice, soft and silky. “Hey. Let me up for a bit.”

  “But you’re done?” I honestly wanted to demand that he just stay laying down with me - I didn’t want him to get _up,_ I didn’t want him to leave the bed.

  Of course, I could feel by the length of his body pressed against mine that he wasn’t exactly _done_ with anything, but I wasn’t going to bring that up.

  Yet.

  “And you’re insatiable.” No, just in love. Lust. Whatever. One of those L words. “Seriously though… let me up for a bit. I have to put the supplies away and shove these clothes in the wash-bag.”

   What he said pulsed through me in a quick second, and I had to stop a smile from streaking across my face. My hands came up, pushing him away from me in a suddenly eager motion. “Yes.” Oh, yes _please._ “Take them off.” I had to resist the urge to catcall when I said it.

  “Insatiable.” Was his best response to me, but the smile that crossed his features let me know that he wasn’t complaining. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss against my chest. My hand came out, swatting him away from me. Suddenly, the prospect of seeing Silas without any clothing on was more tempting than even his kisses. I smiled in response to his chuckle, and fixed my eyes on him as he began to put his kit back together.

  In the back of my mind, a dark little voice started to whisper the second that I couldn’t feel him touching me anymore, and I did my best to push it away. I had the promise of Sil’s naked body - I couldn’t let that be ruined by something as stupid as fear.

  He moved with a gentle grace, and after a few minutes, he closed the door. “Are you cold?”

  Was I shivering? I didn’t want him to know that just being out of contact with him for the few minutes that it had taken him to clean the room was causing my brain to slowly turn against itself. I quickly grinned.

  “You can come warm me up?”

  Just the thought of that made my body give a small shiver of pleasure - I could do this. I could handle this.

  “Or I can turn the space heater on?”

  My face fell into an instant pout. I wanted the warmth of his body, not some silly space heater. I was fairly certain that the friction that the two of us could manage would be far better than any stupid _space heater._ Even with the weight of my pout bringing a small little line of delight along his face, he still turned and fished out the machine. A few clicks, and I heard an electric whir. It was sweet, that he was so concerned about how cold I was. I made another note of things that I needed to write off in my mind - the fact that I’d slept in a freezing basement for the majority of my life.

  Sil didn’t need to know about that, either.

  Instead, I bit my lower lip and watched him, the anxiety to be closer to him gnawing angrily in my chest, while my desire to see him strip down was just enough weight to keep me laying on the bed.

  He raised from the heater with an apologetic look. “This should get the room warmed up soon enough. Least we won’t freeze tonight.”

  “Are you going to come back to bed now?” I could hear the petulance creeping into my tone again.

  “Needy,” Ah, a sweet tease. He stepped to his footlocker, but ended up hesitating for a moment, glancing across my body. With a small chuckle, I stretched my frame out, so that he could see me in one, clean line.

  “I just have to change and kill the lights,” I was happily distracted by the slightest tone of strain in his voice. “You can wait a few more moments, can’t you?”

  No. No more waiting. Laying on the bed without him was causing my entire body to ache, and my nerves were starting to quiver. I didn’t like _not_ feeling his touch. It was almost frightening to realize how much of an anchor he really was to me in the wake of everything that had happened.

  “No, I can’t.” _I can’t wait anymore, Silas. You don’t understand._ “Come to bed?”

  “I’m not going to bed in these.” Well, I would have been upset if he did. After all, I’d plucked up my courage just so he could take his clothes off.

  “So take them off and come to bed.” A small grin spilled across my lips and I lifted myself up, shifting so that I could rest my weight on my hands, my lower body sprawling in open invitation. It was just my luck that Silas looked up as I was shifting myself into position. I saw the color on his face instantly wash to a beautiful crimson that lit up his pale complexion like the sun.

  Oh, God, that was tempting. I don’t think that he realized exactly how sexy he was, standing there with his face so red. When my lips twisted into a _come and get me_ smirk, his face only turned redder. If I couldn’t get him to come back to the bed with begging, there was always _this_ as an alternative.

  “Do you like what you see?” I could feel the aching roil in my voice, and I knew where it was coming from. No one had _ever_ looked at me the way that Silas did. His eyes roamed over my entire body as though I was actually something worth looking at, something more than just a thing to have fun with for a while. He looked at me like I had _worth_  and _value_ … and like he could see something inside of me that I’d never bothered to try to see myself. It was so _intimate._

  “ _Yes._ ” And oh, God, he sounded so achingly _wanting_ when he responded, so that my entire body felt tight from that one syllable. He tried to blindly grope for clothing in his footlocker, but I couldn’t break away from his gaze - I never wanted to stop looking at those beautiful blue eyes. “Yes, I do. Very much.”

  “So come to bed?” Aching, pleading, needful. I didn’t care that I was letting my emotions play on my sleeve. It was like torture to be around him and not be able to touch him.

  “I have to kill the light?”

  Instantly, my mind threw up a red flag for that. No, no way. “There’s no window,” I threw out, “And…” Oh, could I actually say it aloud? The prospect of _not_ getting to was just enough to make the words spill from my throat, “I want to see you.”  I think I managed to keep down a blush, but it could have just been that the scarlet that spread all the way to Sil’s harline made any color on my cheeks pale in comparison.    

   I watched his Adam’s apple jerk as he swallowed hard, and the shake in his voice caused my own body to threaten a tremble in response. “You sure?”

  He was so afraid, and I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to do something to show him that he wasn’t the only one, but I wasn’t sure _how._

  Of course, there was _one way._ Just the thought of doing it frightened me, but I could do it for Silas. Of course I could do it for Silas. For just a second - a brief and painful second, I let my emotions show through my eyes. Vulnerability and aching trust, need, and the knowledge that he could break me by sending me away now. Everything that I was, and even the fear that I was feeling from sitting there on the bed alone… I let it show in my eyes, even though I felt those blinders instantly snap back shut. I’d been taught _not_  to show those emotions…

  But I’d give them to him in a heartbeat, if it even began to make him understand how much I _needed_  him.  I couldn’t form the words, but I could give him that brief flash of my innermost workings, and a slow smile that spread across my lips as I shifted forward, closer to him.

     I could see the discomfort radiating off of his body, and I felt like a monster for not telling him it was okay. At the same time, I couldn’t understand _why_ he was so uncomfortable. I had _never_ seen a more beautiful man that Silas King. He was like a God walking amongst men, and he was worried about showing skin? I sat on the bed, watching him with anxious anxious eyes, and I found myself completely unable to fathom what he had to be afraid of.

  His hands came to the edge of his shirt, fingers twitching as he untucked the material. I bit my lower lip, not caring that pain lanced through me at the sensation, and sat in observant silence as he pulled the material up and over his head.

  Something in my stomach twisted into a knot at the vision of his lovely skin coming into view. I’d seen him in the showers before - I’d seen his bare torso in the training yard when his shirt flashed up… but this was so intimate. This was in Sil’s bunk, just the two of us, and it was so _sexy_ , to see the way that the muscles of his abdomen bunched and fell into perfect lines as he stood there.  My insides were one tremble of awe - I had _never_ seen anything so perfect. I couldn’t even begin to express how he was making me feel, just watching him slowly strip; I think that his nervousness made it even more enticing, because it was clear that he didn’t understand the effect that he had on people.

  On me.

  From his shirt, he moved to unlace his boots. It was almost a sin that he’d remained clothed for this long, through everything that we’d already done. Maybe it was just proof that he had an ungodly amount of control. I had this aching urge to worship every inch of his body, every inch of skin that he exposed. His boots came off quickly, socks following. The clatter of his tags around his neck, swinging back and forth with his movement, sent thrills of excitement through my frame.

  When he straightened and pulled his belt free from his pants, I felt a jerk in my stomach at every loop that the leather slipped past. Carefully, he coiled it up and put it down. His averted gaze was the _only_ thing that saved me from Silas seeing the way that my eyes were burning, my lips parted with need and desire… and amazement. Everything about him was perfection, and I could feel myself spiraling head over feet into all that he was. The sweet shy, anxious expression that bled out to his entire posture made me ache.

  How was it possible to be so in… love… after such a short amount of time? I didn’t understand it. I couldn’t comprehend it. It wasn’t just lust, though I knew that scarlet emotion certainly made up quite a bit of the palette of my emotion… but amongst that crimson was a sweet sweeping blue that was SIlas’ soul, who he was - that was _love_ , and it was stark and infallible in its presence. I pushed the thought away and concentrated as Silas’ fingers found the waistband of his pants and slipped both that and his shorts down his hips.

  And then he was there, bare and perfect in front of me, and no amount of imagination could have prepared me for how amazing he was - Silas King had to be some kind of Adonis. It stole my breath away, and the trembles that had been inside of my chest before were now showing through my entire frame… but he was too worried to look up, and I simply _would not have that._

  I pushed myself off of the mattress, mind too concentrated on my intention to even worry about the pull of the steri-strips on my back. It didn’t matter - the only thing that mattered was showing Silas how I felt, how perfect he was. He opened his mouth, probably to protest my movement, and I cut him off with a breathy statement.

  “God, you’re so _fucking_ beautiful.”

  Oh, God, did I ever mean those words. His eyes were focused on me now, and I could see a new wave of blush - I could see it spread across his chest, up to his face… and all that I wanted was to touch him.

  “You shouldn’t-- you’re going to undo all of my hard work,” even his words held the unsurity that his posture expressed. How could he _not_ see how beautiful he was? He got to look at that face, at his body, every single day. Nevermind the fact that the man who he was, the person whose perfect fucking soul shone through those blue hues, was so amazing.

  I slowly moved, slipping around him to take in every inch of him - I was drunk on his appearance, and I couldn’t get enough. I knew that there was a smile on my face that probably made me look like a damn fool, but I wasn’t going to try to hide it. I wasn’t going to hide anything from him - he’d exposed himself to me, and I was going to let him see _me_ now. How I felt. How he _made_ me feel. The tension and worry in his body _had_ to be erased. I slipped to stand in front of him, tilting my head back so that I could catch his gaze as I lifted my hands.

  It was almost sacrilege - it had to be blasphemous for me to raise trembling fingers to touch an angel, even if he was more devil than anything else. I could see the shaking in my digits, but I didn’t care. I cupped his face and felt the warmth of his blush-burned skin pulse into my palms.

  “Quinn--?”

  No protests, no denying the facts that I could clearly see. I didn’t want any of it. I wanted to show him how I felt. I came up on tiptoe, registering somewhere in the back of my mind that my back might not appreciate the action, but at the feel of Silas’ lips pressing into my kiss, I was lost to his sweet taste, and that pain no longer mattered.

  For a few dizzying moments, we stayed that way, mouths working gently. The pull in my back eventually forced me to my heels, but I moved my face to nuzzle against his neck. “I’ve never met a man more perfect than you, Silas… I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my entire life.” I barely murmured the words, aware of the fact that he wouldn’t be able to understand me when I spoke. I was eloquent, but my charm was failing me. I could only move to do in full what I’d attempted earlier. I’d show him.

  I wanted to let him see _me._

It was hard to pull back from his embrace, but I let my eyes hold the weight of everything that I was feeling as I did. I was so fucking grateful for everything that he’d done for me. My hands hadn’t left his face, and I caressed his jaw gently to accent the feelings that I was trying to convey. It wasn’t just gratitude though - I trusted him. I trusted him more than I’d trusted anyone in my entire life, and I was trusting him now with the one thing that I’d _always_ kept safe and tucked away. I couldn’t explain it, but it was there. I was trusting him with my heart, and everything that I was. I was trusting him with the power to absolutely crush me, because I loved him -I did, and there was no turning back from that now. And standing there in front of him, feeling so connected in the weight of his gaze staring into my own, I didn’t want to.

  “ _Thank you._ ” For being you, for being perfect, for saving me, for putting me back together… for letting me love you.

  “Quinn..?”

  Words clearly weren’t working. I pushed forward and caught his mouth with my own again. It was all soft, aching sweetness and the need that I felt for him. I let my tongue run a soft line against his lower lip, until the pout was velvety smooth. When Silas opened his mouth, tongue eager and searching, I pulled back. The soft tease of my smile crossed my features, but my fingers traced the line of his face. I let digits drop, appreciating every inch of his body from shoulder to wrist before connecting our fingers.

  “Come lay with me,” Soft, encouraging, a gentle beg. _Please, let me hold you. Hold me._ When I stepped back, he followed. I flipped my body around once we came to the bed, hands gently pushing into his shoulders so that he was forced to sit down. I almost let out a small huff, because he just stayed sitting like that - but with a small smile, I pushed him again. When he fell back onto the bed, his hands snaked my frame and pulled me with him.

  I was only too happy to follow. I snuggled at his side and grinned up at him. “Hm. Now I’m bandaged and in bed.” And you’re here with me, “Do you have any more excuses?” Even as I spoke, he looped his hands lightly around my waist, and I felt my body settle into sweet perfection.

   _Home._

  This was where I belonged.

  “I… we should sleep. It’s late.”

  “I’m not tired.” The words, true words, spilled from my lips in instant response. I leaned down and pressed my mouth to his again before he could try to protest - he really didn’t understand how my body worked. I wasn’t fragile - at all. I’d show him though. My mouth only drew away when I felt him trying to take in air through his nose, but I wasn’t finished. I nipped and bit my way along his neck, to his shoulder. I loved the small sounds that it brought from his chest, “And I want to love on you.”

  I needed to show him how beautiful he was.

  I continued the hot trail of my mouth along his flesh, happily stopping to play against his collarbone. I made sure that each nip was hard enough to leave a light but fade-able mark against his flesh. For just a few moments, I would enjoy seeing my prints against him. My tongue played a hot line over each pink streak - gentle warmth to counteract the tingling sting. My fingers roamed freely across his chest, his ribs, any part of his skin that I could touch. I was hungry for the feel of him, and drunk on the scent of him, and the sensation of realizing that I finally knew what _home_ felt like.

 His arms. His strong arms offered something that no roof had, no person had, _nothing_ before Silas.

 Nothing before, and nothing after. There would always and _only_ be him.

 I let my mouth spill up to the hollow of his throat, enjoying the sweet taste of him for a moment before raising my head to catch his gaze again. Even though he didn’t say anything, even though I had a feeling that he _wouldn’t_ say anything, I could see soft need and desire in his eyes, shining back out at me. My lips turned up again, the light of his eyes making me smile.

  A thought occurred to me, “Can you hold still for me? There’s something… there’s something I want to do.”

  “We’re not going to sleep tonight at all, are we?”

   I wanted to laugh at the disdain, backed with thready desire, in his voice. “Probably not. I told you, I’m not tired.”

  “You could say that a dozen times, angel, I’m never going to believe it.”

  I felt my brows hike, and my heart came to a thundering point in my chest that threatened to escape from my ribs. His face crawled crimson, but I didn’t care. Oh, God, he’d called me _angel_.

  “Angel?” The word spilled like an echo from my thoughts. How could he have said that? I was anything but. _He_ was the angel, not me.

  “I don’t suppose you can pretend I didn’t say that…”

  Oh, I wasn’t going to let him forget. Ever. “You’re _amazing,_ ” I let my body slide a slow, hot line against his and reveled in the sound of his moan. It covered my own low, needy whimper at the feel of his hot skin against my own. My head followed his as it dropped to the pillow, and I kissed at the corner of his mouth with a smile. “I can be an angel.” _I can be anything that you want._ “What would that make you, a handsome devil?”

  “Tortured.” Sacchariferous lament, backed by the sensation of his fingers trailing along my back, one dancing up my spine while the other played down to dance fingertips against my ass cheek. Suddenly, that ghost-light touch was kneading my tensed muscled, and I jerked against him… but our joined mouths fed him the moan that poured from my chest at the feel of him gripping and groping me so possessively. As though his hand found itself jealous of the other’s position, the one at the nape of my neck quickly dove down, so that he held me at the center of my body, and all that I could do was _try_ not to completely grind down against him in response.

  “ _Devil_ suits you better,” I had to shift, straddling him to stop myself from completely falling against him like a wanton little thing. I didn’t know how much of me he _really_ wanted, but I wanted _all_ of him. For now, though, I wanted to continue exploring the smoothness of his skin.  

  My hands came up, greedily exploring the feel of his forearms, his shoulders, hungry for every inch of his skin that I could possibly memorize. From his shoulders, I fanned my fingers apart and came down in a sweep over his chest… and found myself completely and utterly aroused when a low sound spilled from Silas’ chest as I flicked over his nipples.

  “Like that?”

  “ _Quinn…_ ”

  Oh, he had. I bit my lip and let out a small, innocent sound, but quickly repeated the motion, eliciting another little whine from his chest. Thready, heady, perfect.

  “I told you I wanted to see you,” as I spoke, my fingers moved to gently tweak at those piqued pearls again. The low sound that spilled from him brought my prick to attention, and a lusty smile full across my lips. I didn’t care that he was seeing it - I felt so puckish, so perfect, so happy and privileged to be touching him. As though to prove that I could to myself, I let my fingers dance happily across his chest - I swept the planes, dips, and curves of his flesh. I left nothing untouched, but found myself completely entranced by the way that his pupils had dilated, the way that his breath came in a soft catch to his chest. I could see his heartbeat pulsing at his throat, and it just made me want him all the more.

  If it was the scars against his skin that made him feel less beautiful, I wanted to prove him wrong. I made a point to touch them all, calloused fingers running against the smooth, soft skin. I had more scars than I could count, and seeing Silas’ only made me feel like our hearts were even closer. When my fingers skimmed up to find the _new_ wound against his flesh, I felt my pulse catch in my throat.

  It was from Carslile’s knife, and he’d only taken it because he was protecting me. I fought with a frown that threatened to twist my features and quickly wiped the drying blood away from it. He’d done this for me, and I could never even begin to pay him back. I could only love him - and I would, for the rest of my life. No one had cared enough to take a wound for me before, but he would carry a scar from this for the rest of his life. A gentle reminder of me, white against white skin.

  It was just one more scar that I would shower with kisses every day, if he would give me the chance.

  “Always, I promise.” I didn’t realize that I murmured the words aloud, but it didn’t matter. I dropped down to plant another kiss to his lips, my body burning with need, love and lust like some potent cocktail that was eating away at my mind completely. My palms balanced me against his skin, and I shifted back hungrily, so that I felt the full, thickness of his erection slide between the pillows of my ass, so that he was perfectly cradled against the apex of my body. I had to pull back from our kiss to gasp at the pleasure that I felt, my eyes closing tight against the quaking need, before working  my way down his chest again. It was only Sil’s sharp attempt at breathing that brought a low, rumbling laugh of pleasure from my chest. I could feel his prick jumping with need, and I was so ready for him.

   _“Quinn..!”_

“Soon,” I wasn’t done touching him yet. I ground my hips slightly against him, so that he could feel my own arousal, hard and thick against his torso. I wanted him… _God,_ I wanted him. But I still had to touch him, had to show him _how fucking perfect_ he was. I licked my lips, sliding down further; his hard length, the swollen head of his arousal playing for just a moment against the puckering core of my body was nearly enough to make me call off my teasing play, to _beg_ him to just do whatever he wanted… but I managed to keep moving. My head dipped down, hands gripping his thighs, and I happily began to lick at his piqued nipples.

  Silas’ body was a soft, vibrating mass of desire, and I could feel it coming off of him in palpable waves that made everything inside of me thrum. His fingers were tight against my shoulders, as though trying to keep some type of grip on reality. I didn’t care though - all that I wanted was to fade into lust and love with him. I felt him try to stir beneath me. “Quinn, I, we need, _Quinn,_ we need to rest--”

   _I don’t think so._ “Later,” My voice was a soft murmur against his chest. _Never._ I wanted to just live forever in this moment, instead. “We can rest later.”

  I heard his head fall back against the pillow again in omission to my demands, and my body sparked and burn in pleasure… until words spilled from his lips that sent a spear of shock lancing through my entire frame.

  “ _Fuck me._ ” It wasn’t a deceleration of frustration - I could tell the difference. I stilled completely, tongue still out where it had been lapping against his chest.

  Surely he hadn’t… I wasn’t good enough to… I didn’t even know how… I’d never… “What?” Breathless, I had to have affirmation of what I _had_ to have been imagining. Surely I’d heard him wrong?

  “ _Please_ ?” Oh, God, that word ached over my body like fingers caressing clusters of nerves deep in my chest. I would do _anything_ for him, if he asked me in such a soft, aching manner. I would give him the damn world on a platter, and I would _certainly_ continue to worship his body in the most intimate of fashions. How had I gotten so lucky? Why… why me? Why had he picked me? I… oh, I _wanted_ him.

  “Okay.”

   His head lifted suddenly, and I knew that he caught me at a moment of worry. I was biting my lower lip, going over in my mind what I _knew_ about what he was asking. Even though I’d never done it - I wanted it to be perfect. I _needed_ to be perfect, for him. I wanted to burn the memory of _us_ forever in his mind, so that he’d always compare every other moment to _this._ The worry that instantly lanced over his face jolted me from my contemplation.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you don’t have to. You really… really shouldn’t, with your back like it is.”

  “It doesn’t hurt,” I dismissed that statement without further thought, frowning at him. I was going to do this - I could do this… and I would make it perfect for him.

  I could do that for him, _surely_ , after everything that he’d done for me.

  “It will. It will hurt like the blazes. I don’t even have anything to give you for it.” Guilt was trying to talk him out of the prize that he’d requested, and I wasn’t going to have it. Courage was screwing up in my chest, and the more that I thought about moving against him, feeling his body hard and taut against me while I…

  I had to smother a moan to answer him. “It doesn’t hurt.” And then, before he could try to make another excuse, to take back his request, I added. “And I want to. If you’ll let me? I just..” Oh God, “I’ve never, ah..”

  Oh God, I was fairly certain that _I_ was the one blushing from head to toe now.

  The thought of falling into Silas without any inhibition or worry was the epitome of divinity… but I needed to make sure that I could _accomplish_ what I was setting out to do. As though he could sense the insecurity that was burning through me, he offered a small quirk of his lips. “It’s okay. We’ll work through this together. Here, in the drawer.” He didn’t tear his eyes from me, and it seemed to almost cause him pain to let me go, but he managed to fumble at the drawer to his bedside. After a few seconds of watching him, I let out a small sound and swatted his hands away. I pulled the drawer open, and instantly felt that blush deepen on my features, accented by what I was _sure_ was a confused expression.

  “Really?”

  I caught the grin that spilled across his lips, a sweet, impish smirk that let me know he was aware of exactly how _mystifying_ and _odd_ the contents of his drawer were.

  “The quartermaster likes me. I get slipped extra in the ration packs.”

  Extra? Really? “Sil,” I couldn’t hide the exasperated tone in my voice. Extra was the understatement of the century. “This drawer is full of condoms.” From the bottom, damn near overflowing to the top. Dozens and dozens of rows of them. “Like, totally full of condoms.” I hated to state the obvious but… well…

  There it was.

  “Not entirely. I’ve got a jar of petroleum jelly in there. Somewhere.” I watched a flush creep along his features again, though he tried to shrug it off. I was too busy thinking of exactly what he’d been doing with _all_ of the condoms, and that jelly. It would have been a lie to say my nerves didn’t bristle at the thought of anyone else in the position I was in now. He continued on, pulling me away from thoughts that matched the color of my eyes, “I’ve been here seven months, and I don’t have a use for them except impromptu silencers or water-proofing something.” I let those words ring through my head.

_Didn’t have a use._

So he hadn’t-- not that I really could have blamed him if he had. Silas King could have had anyone he wanted, whenever he wanted. I think it would have just required those beautiful lips spilling into a smile and the crook of his finger. I don’t know if _he_ realized that, but…

  “I suppose I could slip them to some of the other trainees, but..” I was still so lost in my silent victory that Silas hadn’t been using the condoms, that it took me a second to prompt him to continue on.

  “But?”

  “...but. When I get deployed, they’re going to be scarce as hell. Like cigarettes.” Logical - always logical, _my_ Silas. “Rubbers become currency in war zones. So I’ve been saving them up to take them with me.”

  I fought the urge to bite my lip, to give away my insecurities. I always tried to act so confident. “Weren’t you going to use them?” _You haven’t used them, have you?_

“No,” and a wash of pleasure spilled over me at the quick answer. No hesitation, no lies. Just burning, aching truth that let me know this moment was truly _special._ “But I want to now. With you.”

  That pleasure quadrupled, and everything inside of me suddenly began to burn with the need to help him use them. All of them. I had the energy for it, really, I did. My fingers grabbed one of the wrappers, and when I pulled it out, I came up a bit short. “It’s mint flavored.”

  “I like mint,” A soft protest, and another thing to commit to memory. He liked mint - I could use that. My mouth curved into a slow, needy smile as I pulled out the jar he’d mentioned earlier. As though worried about my initial question, Silas offered up information. “There are other flavors, if you don’t like mint. Somewhere there are unflavored ones, I think.”

  “Mint’s good,” _and we’ll get to the other flavors later._ I let my hand come to a rest on his chest, fingers stroking in a sharp, downward angle. I had to force myself not to bite my lip again, but the question that was burning in the back of my mind spilled out. “Are you sure you want me to..? You don’t want to?” I just wanted it to be perfect for him - I hated that I could hear the tremor in my voice as I asked.

  Apparently, my worry was completely in folly, because his hand came up and gently twined at the back of my neck to pull me into a soft, scorching kiss that stole my question away. I lost myself completely to the sensation of his mouth, forgetting to worry about what we were about to do. He pulled back before I was ready, but I heard him take in a lungfull of air before skimming his lips along my cheek so that his words were hot and heady in my ear.

 “Angel,” that name again - that name that made me burn. “I very much want you to do this. It’s okay, you’re not going to hurt me, and my pride’s not that fragile.” _Oh, but what about mine, Silas. What if I do this wrong, and you don’t want me anymore?_ Beneath me, he rocked his hips as though he could hear my thoughts, and I had to fight back a low moan of desire. “But if you don’t want to, we can wait. Sleep is something we should really be trying to get.”

  Absolutely _not_. I pulled back to rip open the condom in defiance to his words, clearly letting him know that we weren’t going to sleep any time soon. I could do this - I would do this. I pulled the condom from the wrapper, anxious nerves making my usually smooth fingers fumble at the task. The only comfort I had was when Silas stretched his hands out and took hold of my hips, holding me steady as I rose up on my knees.

  Though I’d never used a condom before, I had the notion of how it worked. The slicked rubber spilled against my aching, needy prick and I worked it down until it was flush against my skin. It felt weird, smooth, just a bit cold… and it sent a pulse of desire so strong that it nearly rocked me to my knees through my body - I was going to get to touch Silas in the sweetest, most intimate of ways.

  Everything inside of me was a mixture of quaking nerves and desire so strong it made me dizzy. Silas’ fingers left my hips to grab the jar that I’d left on the beside table, and I could see the anxious, needy monster shining behind his eyes. That devil wanted me, needed me, and it seemed like he was going to burst if he couldn’t have me soon. Something pulsed through me - satisfaction so strong that I could have this affect on him, and a need that was stripping away everything that I thought I was and replacing it with this wanton, aching thing that was all for Silas King and his pleasure.

  I let that expression burn across my gaze, and watched him turn crimson again. I was beginning to truly _love_ the sight of Silas’ blush. My lips parted into a slow smile, and I flicked the lid of the jar to the side, dipping my fingers into the petroleum. Just the sensation of the jelly slicking across my flesh damn near drew a moan from my throat, and I put the container to the side, not really caring where it went. I let my body slide down so that I could have better access to Silas’ sweet, perfect frame.

  My eyes were focused on his face, trained on his expression to make sure that I was doing everything just _so,_ so I noticed when a small burst of fury spilled through his eyes. My lube-free fingers came up to stroke gently at his stomach, because I had a feeling that the anger had something to do with _earlier,_ and I didn’t want _either_ of us to be thinking about that right now. Not now - this was our moment. “You okay?”

  “First time,” he muttered, though I felt like it wasn’t completely the truth of his thoughts. Still, the impact of that statement sent a new wave of worry through my mind. First time, and it was with me. First time, and this was what he was going to have to remember, forever.

  ~~It was better than what I had to remember.~~  

  No, I wasn’t going to think about that now. I was going to think about the fact that Silas was soft and compliant, ready and willing beneath me. I was going to think about the fact that he was giving me this moment, this _special_ moment. It was mine, and no one could ever have it. His legs moved around me, pulling closer, enclosing me against his body, and I felt bliss spill across my features in the form of a smile.

  Yes, this _was_ my _home._

He ran his finger across my hip, and I felt a slow tingle of sensation that pulled across my skin and along the length of my prick. “It’s okay, angel. I’m not a porcelain doll, you’re not going to break me. The lube’s a precautionary only, we could probably even go without it.”

   I didn’t think so. If this really was his first time-- I wasn’t going to make it anything less than perfect. I wasn’t sure that I knew _how_ to do that, but I was damn well going to try. I could see that he was already doing that thing that he liked to do and thinking too hard, so I leaned down and pressed my mouth against his own to steal the thoughts away. He instantly melted against me, and I used the opportunity to slide my slicked fingers between our bodies. They searched until they found the tight, hot entrance to his inner chassis… and then I had to break the kiss to pull back.

  “You’ll tell me if I do something wrong?” Nerves. Goddamn nerves, stopping me from doing what I wanted to do. But Silas was actually smothering giggles when he answered me.

  “Quinn, you _can’t._ Seriously, stop teasing me, it’s mean.” Oh. _Oh._ I liked that, a _lot._ For some reason _stop teasing me_ instantly translated into _tease me until I’m squirming._

I could do that.

  I had to let go of my reservations, and put faith in the fact that my fingers were _golden._ I had the fastest pistol assembly time, I could shoot a bullseye from long range. I could do this. I could work his body like the guns that I took such tender care of…

  A hungry digit played back and forth across the tight ring of muscle at his core for a moment, before sliding against the barrier of it. I felt him begin to squirm against the touch, but I went slow and careful, and his body was already so relaxed against my touch that it only took a few moments of gentle coaxing to feel the digit slide happily into his depths. Silas’ reaction was perfect - his fingers dug into the sheets, his body burning against my shameless attentions. For a few moments, I thrust one finger inside of him, working, swirling, drawing perfect, soft sounds from his throat. If he moved against me, I pulled back, unwilling to let this go too fast. Only when I slid a second digit in to join its brother did I let his body join into the fray, rocking in time with the crooking motion of my fingers.

  The tightness of his body clenching around my probing digits was nearly enough to undo me. The thought of my arousal buried in the perfect, warm, tight depth of his body was…

  I had to bite back a moan as he thrust his hips up against my ministrations again, but I kept my eyes fixated on his face. His lips moved in silent words, like a litany that I couldn’t quite catch - my name was there, and soft, burning words that made my body beg me to quit with the teasing touch that I was giving so we could both sink into that spiraling oblivion. I followed the movement of his body coming off of the mattress with my touch, but far too soon, it was becoming _too_ much, and I was afraid that I was going to come before I even had a chance to spill inside of him.

  I extracted my fingers slowly, shifting my hips so that I could feel the tip of my arousal pressed against his center. There wasn’t the resistance that there had been when my fingers had first come to play, and my body was one trembling, hot line of need. Without thinking, my hand came out to catch Silas’ fingers again. Sweet, perfect connection. We were always going to be connected - I could feel it in that moment, and it was my confidence in that fact that sent my hips working slowly forward, diving the length of my cock inside of the tight warmth of his body.

  We fit _perfectly._

I caught his gaze, sank into the perfection of his blue eyes… and all that I could do was let my body move in what seemed to be an action it had been begging for all along. My hips thrust slow, steady, deep and thick. When Silas brought his legs up to wrap around me, it only gave me a better vantage, taking some of the pressure from my back, and giving me access to the very inner sanctum of his core. The tightness of him around me drew low, needy sounds from my throat, and it took all of the self-control that I possessed not to orgasm every time he shifted, every time I felt him clench warm and aching around my arousal.

  The feel of his body squeezed around my prick was slowly forcing me to come undone. I’d wanted it slow, perfect, aching - a thing that was long and drawn out, full of need and desire… but my hips were picking up the pace, and when he started to pant and whimper, my head was full of a cloud of desire and pleasure so strong that I nearly lost myself completely. Every moan that came from his chest drew a centerline from where our bodies were connected to my heart - I didn’t know how much longer I was going to be able to hold out, because Silas was so _fucking perfect_ , and I’d never felt anything so good in my entire life. He was curled against the crook of my neck, his hot breath playing against my skin - each sound punctuated straight into my self control, until I had none left.

  When he came, it was the sound of my name on his lips - my name, hot and needy, and the spill of his seed shooting up against my chest… and the feel of his body clenching around me as though he meant to possess me forever sent me reeling over the edge. Heat and pleasure and starbursts burned across my vision, and orgasm swept me up in a wave that spilled the gorgeous blue of Silas’ eyes.

  It rocked through my body, frying every nerve ending that I had and _ruining_ me forever - it was always going to be Silas, only Silas. There could never be anyone else that would elicit these feelings, and they were so strong that I couldn’t stay my tongue. I couldn’t stop myself. Trembling fingers curled to cup Silas’ face, press our sweating foreheads together… and my confession spilled from my lips in soft pants that were barely audible.

 “I love you… I love you… I love you… so much.” Murmurings of an aching truth that would be the only reality I ever needed. I loved him, and there was no going back. Not now, not ever. I didn’t care if he knew - I was never going to hide those feelings from him. They were his and his alone.

  I would _die_ before I let anything take Silas away from me. My body was a soft, trembling line of _knowing_ that this was my home. I didn’t need to hear him say the words back, because I could feel it when he curled his arm around me and pulled me close, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth to taste the words that were still spilling achingly from my lips. Finally, my body fell forward, and I laid against him, arms wrapping tight and my head falling to the crook of his shoulder.

 I felt _perfect_ in that moment, and the sensation of our hearts beating in tandem was the only song that I ever wanted to hear again.

   I could have lain there in the circle of his arms forever, but his voice spilled out finally - soft and drowsy and so content that it made my toes curl because I knew that I was the cause.

    “..you tired yet?”

    Reflexively, my fingers twitched in his own, squeezing his fingers tight. “No.” It was the truth and it wasn’t. I didn’t want to go to sleep now - I didn’t want to wake up to the knowledge that this had all been some beautiful dream. But the allure of his arms tight around me, my body laying soft atop his own… it was almost too much to withstand.  With his eyes closed, Silas King looked like an angel.

    “I am.” It was a slow murmur. “That was amazing though. Think we’re going to have to do it again sometime, if you want.” My heart jumped into my throat, pulse speeding up at his words. I’d been so worried that I wouldn’t be good enough, or that my confession was going to make him feel - I didn’t know. But I knew that he was _perfect._

“..yeah?” My voice was soft and timid and full of an aching need for affirmation that I hadn’t heard him wrong. My body was exhausted, even though my mind was whirling. It was hard to keep my lids open, especially with his arms around me and his slow breathing sucking me into the same rhythm.

   “..yes. Sleep with me?” I’d never slept with another person. I knew that I talked in my sleep, but his question was so softly sweet, the promise after even sweeter. “You’re safe. I’m not going to let you go.”

   I couldn’t tell him no, even though he was quickly fading into unconsciousness. Even with that, his arms were tight around me. I wasn’t going to leave that perfect circle. “Okay…” A soft admission, and I laid over to nuzzle against his neck. I didn’t have to sleep - I just wanted to listen to the soft beat of his heart, the intake of his breath.

   I didn’t realize that the sound of Silas King sleeping peacefully was my own lullaby, because I soon followed him into the darkness of exhausted slumber.

\---

   The world was black and red, and pain was the only companion that I had in this dark place. I knew it well; it was the place that my mind went every night, the place where reality twisted into something demented and demonic, and I couldn’t escape. I was used to this place - it was a second home in my head, existing since before I could remember.

   My Father lived here, in this place of terror. And now, a new figure had spilled forward to join him - all muscles and curves, with shining knife in his hand.

   Carslile and Francis made the perfect pair.

   I slipped further into the darkness of the nightmare, until the blur between reality and dream was something that I could no longer discern. In the back of my mind, I knew that I should be reaching out for something, for someone... but the hovering presence of Carslile and my father stole those thoughts of comfort away from me.

   There was pain in my side - my father there, with a broken Vodka bottle. I could feel it digging into my flesh, twisting, turning... and then Carslile was there beside him. His hands dug into my hair, wrenching my head back. His mouth was a hot sting on my own, all lips and teeth and pain.

   "Get off of me!" I shouted the word against him, my hands lashing out - but the bottle digging into my side cause a scream of pain to spill out of me. My father's hands wrenched my arms behind my back, dragging me to my knees.

   "Did you think that you'd get out of this, you little fuck?" Carslile's voice was  dark and furious, and the clothing that he'd been wearing was suddenly gone. Behind me, I could feel my Father's fingers digging into my arms, drawing blood. I tried to thrash, but I could do nothing in his steely grip.

   When Carslile approached me, his prick slicked with blood and hovering close to my face, I knew what he wanted. I could feel the burn in my throat, and I thrashed out - panic wracked through me, and I tore out of my Father's grip, falling forward and onto the ground. His booted foot connected with my ribs in a crack, the same crack that I'd felt so many times as a child.

   "What are you going to do, you little bitch? Are you going to cry? Aubrey," He snarled my first name out before he kicked me again, and I gasped for air, "Didn't I raise you better than to be such a pussy?"

   "Fuck!' I shouted the word out, trying to scramble up again, to hands and knees... but his foot caught against my stomach, knocking the air out of me... and then Carslile was atop me again. I felt the sting of a knife blade pulling down my back, hot agony sweeping through me. "Carslile, no! Get off of me!" But there was nothing I could do - the silver flash of his knife was at my throat, and the hard stab of his prick entered my body in the same pain and shame-inducing sensation as it had in the poolhouse. My fists thrashed out again and again, slamming the ground, splitting my knuckles... but I couldn't move. When I tried, my father's booted foot lashed out to catch at me again.

   "No one is going to save you this time, cunt. And when I'm done, we're going to do the same thing to your precious Silas."

     **No**. "No!" I didn't care what they did to me, but Silas didn't belong in this place. It was dark, and thick, and full of my pain and shame... a thousand tears that I'd never shed. He didn't belong here. "Silas!" I screamed the word out, ragged and laced with the pain of my Father's torment and Carslile's merciless thrusts... and even in my dream, I couldn't let my tears fall. "Silas, please..." It was a whimper as I felt Carslile's pelvis grind into me again. "Don't..." But there was no escape, and he wasn't here to save me this time.

  This darkness was my own, my torment all encompassing, and there was no way to escape.

  “Silas…” _I loved him._

  It was the last word that spilled from my lips that sent a blossom of color into the world of black and red. A sweet, spring blue that reminded me of something that I needed to hold on to - someone that I needed to remember. Silas.

  But he wasn't here, and I could still feel my body screaming from the way that Carslile was inside of me, pumping and using me and taking away the only thing that I'd ever managed to keep safe from my Father's greedy fingers.

   But still, Silas would _want_ to be here. I could almost hear his voice in the back of my mind, saying my name. I could almost feel the soft press of his lips. It was almost on the edge of my senses, and I wanted to sob more than I ever had before. He was just within my reach, but Carslile's heavy frame was pulling whimper after whimper from my chest, until I was too fucking ashamed to try to reach out for him again.

   I didn't want him to save me - I was a used, abused thing. Carslile was deep inside of me, and Silas didn't need to see this... not again.

   And yet that lingering memory of his mouth was a gentle burn against my senses, persistent, unwavering. It was a golden warmth that penetrated into the very recesses of my own, private Hell and lined the edges of morbidity with rays of sunlight like some dashing, avenging angel, come to cast away the shadows.

   I could feel his arms around me - I could feel his hand twined tight in my own, just as it had been when we were making love earlier. I could feel him there, even though I could feel Carslile's dark presence tearing into my core. I couldn't _hear_ Carslile anymore.

   I could hear the soft, steady beating of Silas King's heartbeat, and I cried out his name again. I was answered with another press of lips, a gentle flick of tongue against my lower pout.

   Carslile snarled above me, but I tried to force the thought away - I could feel his prick beating at my very depths, but the sensation of Silas' answering kisses in response to my call of his name was enough to pull me away from that sensation until finally... finally I could feel the thick warmth of his body beneath me, and the ghosts of my nightmares started to fall to the wayside.

   "Silas..."

    My body collapsed forward - Carslile still hovered over me, inside of me like an unrelenting phantom, but Silas was holding me, and I felt his lips against the top of my head.

   "I'm here, Quinn, it's me, it's Silas." His voice was a low, sweet wave of assurance - I was surrounded by his scent, by our scent. My body burned - I'd probably pulled some of my stitches... "I've got you. You're safe."

   But one thing of my nightmare wasn't fading away. It made my hand clench, even though I knew now that I was in Silas' room, and not that Hell in my head. Even here, I could feel Carslile inside of me, his dick beating at sore, unused muscles. I could feel him stripping me of everything that I was, and telling me that I would _never_ be enough for the man who held me.

   My eyes threatened to tear up, and instead a ragged wash of air tore from my chest. I couldn't - I couldn't do this! That burn _inside_ of me was the last sting of impurity that Silas hadn't seared away with his light. I could still _feel_ him inside of me. "I can't-- please Sil-- he's _still here.”_ Even I could hear the way that tears threatened my voice, but I didn't have the strength to fight it.

   "He's not." I felt Silas' arms wrap tighter around me, but that sensation of Carslile, of his violation just burned deeper in my chest. "He's not here, and he'll never touch you again."

   But he would, and I knew he would. My dreams were like another world that I existed in - my nightmares far too tangible to be antiquated as something that I could simply step away from. Carslile would always be there, and his touch to my very depths was the only touch that I'd ever felt. Silas didn't understand - I needed... "No-- still here, still _in_ me, Sil," I burned to ask it, but I couldn't think of anything else. I needed him - I needed him so fucking much that it was like torture, "Get him _out, please!_ " My entire body was scalding, and I wasn't sure if I was going to be sick, or cry for the first time that I could remember...

   Or if I was just going to fade away into nothing there in Silas' arms, because Carslile still hovered over us like a ghost, one last barrier to scale before I could rest easy in his embrace.

   Silas didn't keep me long for waiting, "Are you... are you sure? I don't want to hurt you, Quinn."

    **_Damn it, Silas. Stop being my superior and love me_ ** . My brain screamed the words out, but all that I could do was gasp and squeeze his hand tighter, whimpering my words out in a soft litany to his magical touch that seemed capable of fixing anything. He'd pulled me from my nightmares when _no one_ had been able to do so before - and now, I really believed that he could melt them away completely. _“Please._ Wash him away, Sil..? Please?"

   A part of me felt dirty - if he didn't want to do this, I was being a bastard for making him... but a larger part of me could only feel his arms around me, and how fucking good his skin was my own.

  "Can you reach the drawer? I need the jar and a condom, I don't want to hurt you." A half sob tore itself from my chest, but I covered it up by quickly rolling over. Pain shot through my body, my abused and fucked up body, but I let it chase through my senses and used it to shift me forward. I grabbed the jar of lube, ignoring his other request. If he'd let me... if he would... without a condom.

  Carslile hadn't used a condom. I needed Silas, all of him - raw and unsullied and _perfect._

I'd managed to get the need to sob under control, my _father_ would be so proud, but I couldn't stop my fingers from shaking until the tube of petroleum was nearly a blur in my digits. I tried to take a deep breath, tried to stop myself from acting like I was on the edge of breaking... but it was so hard with the vestiges of my nightmares chasing around in the back of my senses like some hellhound, bent on dragging me back to that playground. I knew, as long as Carslile was _inside_ of me, as long as he was the last thing that had been, I was never going to shake the beast.

   I needed Silas. Even more than I'd needed him earlier, I needed him now.

   "Quinn?" His blue eyes shifted to my trembling hands, and I let a slow, shaky breath out. Maybe I was being selfish - what if this wasn't what he wanted? What if last night had been nothing more than a beautiful gift from him, and he had no intention of carrying our relationship forward any further? I sucked the stinging thoughts down with pain and forced myself to speak. Shaking - ashamed. No wonder he didn't want...

   "I-- sorry, can't stop." I forced my lips into a smile, but I could feel the way that they threatened to tremble. I just wanted to sink into the warmth of his arms and forget about everything that had been torturing me mentally for however long I'd been trapped in the grasps of my Nightmares, but I knew it didn't work that way.

   At least, it never had before.

   Silas' eyes pulled up to my own, and I saw the way that he searched my face. I saw when he came to the conclusion of what I wanted - no, what I needed. It wasn't a matter of want anymore.

   "..are you sure?" _Fuck_ , he was going to make me ask twice, and I didn't have a leg of pride to stand on to stop me. I was to the point that begging sounded about right, if it was necessary. I only managed to swallow the lump in my throat before I spoke.

   "Please, I need you." Did I need to explain why? Did he need to know exactly how depraved Carslile had been, how violated I felt..? I would tell him all, if he would just make this sensation go _away_. "He didn't... I mean... Sil... please?" Even my own need for eloquence, something I was usually good at, failed me. I wanted to fall against his chest and cry. Instead, I stayed rigid, shaking, begging.

   He untangled our fingers, and for just a second, I feared that I'd revealed too much, that he wasn't going to want to... but then I realized that he was acquiescing to my request. My eyes watched him carefully as he unscrewed the lid to the jelly, with thoughts chasing across his features like wolves chasing after the moon. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but he didn't shift my body away from him...

   The second he put the cap of the bottle aside and coated his fingers with the inner contents, I took his digits in my own again, and I felt something that had been tight in my chest release. Just the touch of his hand was a comfort that I never thought I'd be afforded. There had never been anyone to hold my hand after the nightmares before - my father had beaten me when I'd woken him with my screams. The boys in my bunk had learned to sleep with earplugs.

   I'd always ended up curled against myself and alone.

   And now there were warm fingers laced through mine, and blue eyes that promised to take away all hurt. I wasn't sure how I'd ever lived without him before.

   His fingers in my own pulled lightly, his body beneath me shifting so that my frame, sweat slicked from terror, slid along his own. Silas' mouth was a scorching warmth, and I wished that the kiss alone was enough to take away the shame that dwelled deep inside of me, laughing and mocking. It nearly was, because it was so warm and sweet and everything I wanted, but Silas' fingers made a slow decent down the line of my body... and I felt the press of them against the abused ring of muscle that was only now stinging with an ache. Just that touch sent a terrible flash of memory through me - recognition of what had happened earlier, of exactly why I so desperately _needed_ him to do this.

   My entire body was taut, and he was torturously slow in sliding a digit into my core. It ached - there was no way around it. Even if I'd not been violated the day before, with how tense I was it would have hurt. Carslile had gone into my depths slicked and wet - he’d not torn me as badly as he’d _shamed_ me, and it was the shame that made it burn. I couldn't seem to relax my body, as much as I wanted to. I tried to simply melt into his kisses, to forget everything that was tugging at every nerve in my body and demanding my tense attention. I tried... but I couldn't - and all that I wanted was for him to keep _going_ , because the sensation of him inside of me was the only thing that was going to change _anything_ at all.

   "Sil, please."

   Somehow, even through terse need and fear, I sounded petulant and needy. Just the sensation of his digit sliding slowly inside of me gave a twinge of promise - because I was fucking filthy on the inside, but Silas was a bright and burning sun... and he could burn any shadow away. I knew that he could.

    I knew it in my heart, and the hope that he would purify me was the only thing that was keeping carefully guarded tears from pooling out of my eyes. I let out a low, aching whimper in my chest... he didn't seem affected at all by my request. That one digit worked slow and steady inside of me, beating a soft line against my abused muscles until I felt the depths of me completely used to the girth of him.

   Only when my broken insides relented to that soft sensation of his finger working did he let another slip against the edge of my muscles to join in. Again, pain lanced through me, but it was chased with another sensation. Soft and sweet and perfect. _This_ was what I'd imagined my first time to be like. _This_ , achingly burning and slow, making sure that nothing would pain me. Silas King was so starkly different from Carslile, that for a moment, it was hard for me to remember what the other had felt like at all. There was only Silas, and his fingers working slowly - the pain was still there, but dizzying pleasure at his laboriously slow ministrations was chasing on the sharp edges of it and threatening to dull its sting.

   When he thrust those long, perfect digits inside of me again, soft bliss poured from my chest, and I couldn't stop words from bubbling upward. "Sil, I--" But I cut myself off. I wasn't going to say it again. The knowledge that he _hadn't_ returned my confessions of love earlier burned through me like a deep seeded thread of darkness, a small voice that echoed my earlier fears that he didn't mean for this to be more than one night of passion. I had to swallow the word l _ove_ down, and it burned straight into my stomach. I _loved_ him. I did. But...

   "I _need_ you, please, Sil." That was still the truth, and maybe... maybe someday, I'd tell him my confessions of emotion again. Maybe, if we were here again, together. If he wanted to keep me, after all of this... if...

   "I'm sorry." Even my fucked up mind couldn't misinterpreted what he was saying. His fingers slid from my depths, and I let my body instantly react. I rocked down along his frame, until I felt the head of his arousal pressing between my cheeks. Silas reacted instantly, a low groan pouring from his chest, and his hand coming to find my hip. I could feel his palm on my skin like a line straight to my heart... and I _knew_ that this was what I needed. That he was what I needed. I pushed down further, and his words brought me up short.

   "Go slow, I didn't... Just go slow, okay? There's no rush. _We're_ in no rush." Soft, aching concern. Fuck, but I loved him. I was terrified - terrified that feeling the head of his prick spilling inside of me was going to bring another wash of memory... terrified that this control that Silas was giving me, with my body straddling atop his own would mean that I wouldn't satisfy him. I was horrified, because this was like the first time for me... because what had happened with Carslile _couldn't_ count. This would erase it - this was my first time... and my body was tense and shaking for it.

   Silas shifted slightly beneath me, and his mouth fond mine again, stealing that fear away in a soft and reassuring kiss. On the wings of that warmth, I came to my knees with my fingers clinging and digging into his shoulder. One of his hands strayed from my hip, but I felt where it went... to his length, to guide that hard head against the abused ring of muscle that Silas had so diligently stretched before giving me this moment.

   I was nearly vibrating with trembling as I let my body rock back - I felt his flared hood pierce through the ache of my resistance... but then he was inside of me, and my eyes nearly rolled back in my head from just the sensation of that. It was so sweet, so perfect. I gave in to his urging hand, and lowered myself an achingly slow inch at a time; it was torture for me, and it had to be torture for him, too. We were both gasping soft breaths that mixed and mingled with one another... and it was only when I felt my thighs touch against his skin and my body settled fully in his lap that I realized our breath was coming in perfect unison. We were breathing hard and fast together... and everything inside of me was burning with scorching heat and _Silas_.

  The fact that my body was still so tight, still not completely ready for what was happening wasn't lost to me - I just found that I didn't care. All that I wanted was Silas... Silas, who could take away all of the pain and agony, the shame, the nightmares. Even if it hurt, even if it ached... even if my body wasn't completely ready, it was all that I wanted.

 He was all that I wanted.

 I had to focus on the fading sensation of pain in my core - the longer he was buried in my depths, the less it hurt. I was adjusting, and this was what I'd wanted all along. This teasing, slow pace that was all about love - about the way that our bodies connected, the way that we could both feel _so good_ if it was done right. At least - I thought that Silas felt good... he was shaking beneath me, his breathing ragged, his chest rising and falling in sharp bursts that made me ache just to look at him.

 "You know," his lips twitched into a smile as I memorized the God-like lines of his face, and I loved the way that his words trembled, unsteady, thready with need and want. "This is not how I dreamed our first time."

  His words lanced through me in an achingly sweet fashion - he'd dreamed of this before. The fact that he'd thought of this, even if he'd only thought of it in passing... made me think that maybe, just maybe there was a chance that this was something I could _keep_. The fear that this was going to be my one time with Silas - that he'd want nothing to do with me after...

  Oh, he could break me, more than anyone in this world had ever broken me. I knew it. I think he knew it, too. But the chance to have him - for him to be _mine_ was too tempting.

 I had to take a breath to actually make my throat work for speaking, and even then, my voice trembled with the same wanton ache as his did.

 "No?"

 "Hmm.. no." I could sense how much strain was on him just to speak - the warmth of my core was tight and hot around him... and I knew with a simple flick of my hips, I could make him quiver. "Call it idyllic, I was imagining roses and a bottle of wine."

  A low moan poured from me, and I didn't realize that it was happening until it was already in the air. _Romance._ Silas King had imagined romance, and it was the most delicious thing that I'd heard. My lids actually fluttered shut, and I let myself imagine it for a moment - his blue eyes warm, our bodies close... never sullied by what had happened - brought together through need and not heroic necessity. I wanted more of it... and I wanted to reward him for giving me even this heavenly vision.

 My hips rolled - slow, steady. I'd never done this, and I wanted to make sure that I did it right. The sound that poured from me seemed to say that I was doing something right, and Silas's face slipped into an expression of hot bliss and _need,_ until finally he echoed my sound with his own.

 I didn't let it linger in the air for very long, though. Greedy, I dipped down, pressing my lips against his. my tongue diving to taste his words, to excavate the inner secrets of this dream that he'd had of us both. Silas moved, arms shifting around me to wrap us both closer... and every nerve ending in my body was on fire - I didn't realize that Heaven was scorching flames... but, of course, my angel was a devil, so it made sense.

 I had to pull back from the kiss with a low gasp of desire, because there was something that I wanted. Something that I _needed._

 "Tell me how you imagined it... please?"

 And my perfect  Silas, he didn't fight my request. "Before or after I realized you'd probably prefer whiskey?"

 I would have laughed, but I decided to reward him for being so sweetly compliant instead. My hips rolled slowly again, and Silas shifted to prop himself up. "Both?" I wanted all of his dreams, all of his fantasies. I wanted to know everything that I could about the man beneath me.

 "Ah-- before, I thought, I would pick you up and bring you home. I would have made you dinner; that's that proper thing to do, with someone you want." My entire body sang at those last words.

   _Someone you want_.

  He wanted me - even before this moment, he wanted me. I half wanted to shake him, to tell him that I'd been chasing him for _months_ , but somehow, I couldn't regret this moment. "And there would have been candlelight and music."

  He was so precious he made my fucking heart ache. I didn't deserve a man like this - I didn't deserve someone so breathtakingly precious and damn near _innocent_ in his fantasies. I'd always wanted something like what he said, on the edge of my mind... but I'd never thought I'd have it. I was still afraid now - afraid that we wouldn't go further than this night.

  "Sounds pretty romantic." The words ached from my chest.

  "I'm a sucker for romance." Agreeance. My fingers tightened on his shoulder - I needed to let him know that I was going to move, that I was going to bring us both closer together... because right now, _I needed him_ , just as much as I think he needed me. I had to take a deep breath, but the aching hiss of desire that poured from Silas' chest was worth it when I let my body raise a slow inch at a time. It was almost torture, the loss of his thickness inside of me. It was almost torture to feel him leaving me - for a moment, memories of Carslile threatened to return, but I wasn't going to let it.

  I wasn't going to let him have this moment - this was mine. This was Silas'. It was ours together. I nuzzled against Sil's neck, breathing in the scent of him, trying to pant air into my lungs so that I wouldn't faint from just the sensation of him sliding against my nerves. I shifted slow, until it was just the thickness of his head inside of my core, and stopped with my body trembling above him. My muscles were taut, but for the life of me, I couldn’t register the lines of pain from my earlier abuse - I knew it was there, but my brain could only feel Silas against me, inside of me.

  His aching, twitching body, his breath coming in sharp and fast... and then low, heated words... so worth it, so worth it _all._ "You are going to _ruin_ me, angel."

  That name again - fuck, but I loved him.

  I didn't recognize the low, aching noises coming from my chest until they were filling my ears, but I didn't care to make them stop. It was so _hard_ for me to be vulnerable around anyone. I'd always been strong and brave, foolhardy... charming. I'd never been someone who could break - I'd never been someone who had to _need_ so much, because I'd never had to depend on anyone before, for _anything._

 Silas made me feel like I _could_ , and it was that feeling that was scarier than anything else. That feeling that was dangerous. I could get addicted to feeling like I had someone I could depend on. It was the singular most terrifying thing I'd ever experienced, because I _knew_ that to lose this feeling would be to break the part of me that I'd always kept safe and tucked away - the only part of me that I'd kept fully for myself...

  The only part of me that had never been broken before, and Silas had somehow found the keys.

  I knew - I knew that I was in danger, and I didn't _care._ Instead, I let my hips slowly start to sink down again - it _hurt_ , but the whimper that poured from my chest had everything to do with fear, and nothing to do with pain... and then it was all good, so good, because he was slowly sliding inside of me again, and I felt so perfectly _whole. So... at home._

  I loved him _so_ much.

  I followed that feeling down, riding it the way that I rode his body, until I was nestled against his lap, with his length full tilt inside of me... and it took everything that I _had_ not to beg him to just take me, however he wanted... because I wanted to feel him **move.**

 A low huff of air pooled from my chest, and it seemed to be too much for Silas, because he raised his lips to kiss me. His tongue was a beacon, guiding me forward, guiding me home... and I wanted to stay lost to him forever. But first...

  My lips quirked into another smile - I was lost to the divinity of his dream, and I wanted to imagine it happening, just as he had, while I was moving against him. "Tell me about the rest?"

  This time, I was treated to a delectable whine pouring from his chest, and I loved it. I loved his protest, because I knew that he was going to give me what I wanted _anyway._

 "It was a bigger bed." He sounded so lost, so scattered, trying to piece back together his fantasy... but every word played a movie in my head, and I could see it like an illusion in front of me, Silas King's words. "Silk sheets. Green or purple. I imagined laying you down after dinner and a bit of wine, after so many kisses, and then making love to you until you were languid and so sated that you couldn't fathom moving." And I could see it, too. Devilish ministrations, slow love making, all lips and teeth and tongue and flesh to flesh. All Silas King and everything that he could offer, and I _wanted_ it, so fucking much.

  "And then I would gather you up into my arms," he paused, and I could almost taste the fact in the air that his dream had ended there. "And we'd just... be, for a while. Until I could worship you again." Fuck, but I wanted that. I'd dreamt of him too, but it was all perfect heat and blue eyes, and it ended in me moaning myself awake with my hand down my pants. I'd woken my bunkmates with it before, and only half of them had been angry.

  The other half, I suspected, were getting off on listening to me get off.

  But I didn't want to think about that. I wanted to think about Silas, and what he said - how sweet it was. A real, proper first date. A real, proper courting.

  Something I'd never expected to have.

  Suddenly, I was greedy. "Promise me... someday we can have that?" I wanted it - I want it so fucking fiercely, even though I knew that there was no way for us to really make promises. The war was so desperate that they could call out even their green Privates to the battlefield at any moment. It could be that I wouldn't be alive tomorrow to collect on the promise, but fuck me if I didn't _want it_. I want it to hold to my chest, like a talisman of his unspoken love.

  I _needed_ to know that he _wanted it_ just as much as I did. I knew, in that moment, that I'd break if he didn't. My entire body was burning with how much I loved him, and I wanted to say it - to tell him that I'd _always_ be with him, if he wanted. But all that I could do was focus on his heat in my core and the way that our bodies were perfectly intertwined while I waited to see if he'd give me the sweetest of lies in the form of a promise that we both knew it was impossible to assuredly keep.

  I could see him swallow, I could see the same knowledge in his gaze that existed in my heart. This was war - there were no promises but pain... but I wanted it anyway. Maybe I was greedy, but I wanted it. I wanted, more than anything, for this to be as real for him as it was for me.

 I felt desperate, and achy, and terrified... I'd never needed someone like this before.

  "We will." Fuck, but it was like he was breathing life back into my lungs - a smile broke over my face, a perfect representation of the warmth and heat that I felt inside of me. I knew that he wouldn't have promised if he hadn't meant it.

  I knew that he at least _wanted_ to keep the promise, if nothing else.

  I wanted to tell him I loved him - I wanted to so much that I nearly did, but I kissed him instead, our bodies moving in tandem like he'd had the same thought to connect our lips at the same time. I shifted my body, and when I slid against him, it didn't hurt anymore. It was just slicked pleasure - my insides were still bruised and broken, but endorphins and desire, chased with love was enough to numb it out and feel me with _want_ instead. I pulled half up, my hips rolling, my body following instinct.

  But his words...

  His sweet words.

  Were there more?

  A coy smile slipped across my visage, and it took all of my self-control, but I managed to stop myself from moving. I was a pulse of trembling, but Silas' desperate gasp and half-crazed words was worth it.

  " _Fuck_ , Angel, please don't-- don't stop **_now_ ** _._ " God, but the desperation in that last word ripped through every fiber of my being. I wanted to fall onto my knees and worship the _God_ that he was.

  Instead, I petulantly let my words pour from my chest. "Will you tell me more? Please?" I was so damn _greedy._

 " _Anything._ " Fuck, but his desperation was intoxicating. It pooled and poured through me where we were connected, and it made it so hard for me not to roll my hips again. I could see his eyes flicking, searching his own mind, reaching for some type of sanity that he seemed unable to find. At least he was just as crazed with lust as I was. God, it was so fucking _hard_ not to fall against him and beg him to just take me.

  But, I was nothing if not patient.

  "You wore your uniform, in my dream. Dressed down to the nines, polished up like you were about to receive a medal." And I would, too. If it meant being with him, of course I would. He deserved it. "Just to come to dinner with me. It was really sweet." I rewarded his words by shifting my body further, dragging my frame up along his so that he spilled from my squeezing chassis, and he seemed to have picked up on my desires, because he kept speaking without me prompting him.

  "After you showed up at my door, I still wanted that, but it wasn't the only one anymore." He came to the spill of my entrance, and I let my hips twist sensually for a moment, playing and teasing him, rewarding him for giving me this vision that I could hold tight to - a vision of what _if_. I'd hated what if before. I loved it now.

 I loved it so much that I slid back down on him, drawing his length inside of me again with no problem. "Because when you climbed into my rack and went to bed, I wanted to follow you. I wanted to lay down next to you and take you into my arms, so you never slept alone." I'd wanted that too - fuck, but it was all that I'd wanted. "And in my dreams, we'd stripped each other down until there was nothing between us but skin, and I peppered all the sweet bruises with kisses that turned into sweet, sharp need..." I was trembling, aching. Needy - his words were burning across me, my own pleasure turning into torture, because with every syllable he uttered, I needed him _more._ "We'd leave each other utterly exhausted for morning inspection the next day, every time."

 He leaned forward, the devil, and breathed his next words into my ear until I couldn't stop my eyes from rolling back at the feel of it. "You left my bed smelling like you, when you left it." I knew what he meant, because I'd smelled like him when I went home. If I could have saved the scent on my skin, I would have. "And some nights I wouldn't help myself but wish it weren't a dream."

  I knew... I knew what he meant. I knew _exactly_ what he'd done on those nights, because I'd done the same. I wanted him - I wanted him so much that I could almost feel tears stinging my eyes. Almost... almost... and suddenly my patience snapped, and there was only my body burning in a way that I'd never experienced before. I was on fire, and only Silas could put out the flames.

  Breathy, I sank down against him completely, so that the swollen head of his prick lanced my depths. It didn't hurt - it _burned_ , and I knew it was because I needed _more._ I needed him to move. I needed Silas to take me, completely.

 I needed to belong to him and him alone.

 I gasped when I spoke, sounded so wanton, and I didn't care. I just wanted _him._ "Fuck, yes, please. Right _now_."  

  The fact that he didn't immediately tell me _no_ was the most beautiful sign that I'd seen since I'd woken up. I knew that Silas was careful, protective, in need of making sure that I didn't hurt myself any further than I already had. I just needed him to understand that I wasn't so _fragile_ that I'd break. My body was one long line of an ache, but it wasn't anything that I couldn't get through, especially on the waves of endorphins and desire. Those two things were a potent cocktail, stronger than any liquor I'd ever tasted... I was so addicted to the feeling that Silas King elicited from within me, and I never wanted to let it go.

  As though he could read my thoughts, he brought his mouth down in a scorching kiss that brought his fingers shifting to my hips. It sent shockwaves of delight through me, just that light touch against my sides. He urged me with fingers and tongue and hot kisses to work my body upward again, and it was damn near torture.

  Up until that point, I hadn't realized that I needed to be connected to another human being to truly know what it was like to be whole, but any time away from Silas made me starkly aware of how much I _needed_ him inside of me.

  As soon as my body was nearing the edge of screaming for the sensation of him, I could almost feel something click into place inside of Silas - it changed in the way that his body gave one trembling pulse of near anticipation, and in the way that he broke our scorching kiss and battle of tongues so that he could take in a shaking breath. I don't even know if he realized how much that sound trembled, but it rocked me to the very core.

 But God, if his hands weren't moving then, and he was guiding me down against the hot length of his prick - my body was one taut muscle of tension and need, and the sensation of him sinking home, of his body raising up to meet my lowering hips was nearly enough to make me cry. I wasn't sure what I'd ever done to deserve a moment like this, but I was going to cherish it forever.

  My body was all sweat and need and trembling, shaking nerves. My chest was rumbling vessel of moans and litanies of praise for the sweet Devil who was riding against me - I was ready to worship. I would make him my new Religion. I just needed _more_ of him.

 And the way that his eyes were raking over me, as though he was making to memorize me completely - preparing to forever engrave me into the recesses of his brain... it just made me all the more hot and needy, until my dick was aching for his touch, aching for some kind of release. I had to swallow back a cry for it, because I was damn well going to make this last for as long as I could, and I knew that Silas would do all that he could to hold out until I'd found pleasure.

  I'd milk that for all it was worth, even if it killed me... because right now, I was tasting the Forbidden Fruit, and it was the most delicious flavor I'd ever had on my tongue.

  "Beautiful." Reverence and _love_ spilled through Silas' tone, even if he couldn't admit it aloud yet - I could hear it. I could hear it and it burned through me like a scorching blade, a promise that someday... someday he'd actually say the words, and when he did, I'd truly be one with the fucking Angels.

  I **wanted** him to possess me, completely. Wholly. I couldn't wait anymore. It fucking _hurt_ to wait, and I was afraid that the thoughts that I'd buried would resurface their ugly heads, and I wasn't going to have that. Because there was only Silas.

  Always Silas.

  I skimmed forward, catching his lips with my own. I tried to paint a masterpiece with my tongue against the roof of his mouth - a portrait of the future that I wanted us to have together. A salacious photograph of everything that I wanted him to do to me.

  Except I wasn't sure what that everything _was_ , because it wasn't about my desire now. It was about Silas, about what he wanted to do. About what he _would_ do to me, if only he'd stop talking and teasing and start _doing._ My lips skimmed along his jaw, though it was almost a shame to leave his lips, sweetly chasing to the lobe so that I could play gently at it with my tongue.

  Almost in reward, I think, Silas brought his hips up against mine again - this time, his prick wasn't a gentle, slicked line. It was hot, and hard, and it crashed into me with less control than my _perfect_ lover had been showing before. It hurt - but fuck me, it felt so good that it tore me from my ministrations and brought an aching cry from my chest. My nails dug against his shoulders, and the sounds spilling from me strangled between a whimper and a moan. Something in Silas' eyes burned, some slip of control releasing, being replaced with the heart of a libertine, because he spiked his hips upward and dove deep inside of me again until I lost myself to _need_ and _want_ so sharp that I couldn't help but to beg.

   " _Yes.._ " Something sweetly dark spilled through Silas' eyes at my words, and it made my stomach curl and my prick weep liquid pearls just from the expression. My words continued to spill before I could figure out what the look meant. "Make me yours, Silas. Please?"

  It was like I'd flipped some magic switch - I could see the sensation of it pulse through him, as though I'd curled my fingers inside of him and stroked against his bundle of nerves. I could see his pulse leap for a moment in his throat, his breath come in sharp... and it just made me want him all the more. The fact that he had such a visceral reaction to my request - it made me _want_ him, and there was only the smallest part of me that was terrified that I'd gone too far. I'd already confessed my love for him - what if this was too much? What if I'd taken one step too far and he didn't want me anymore.

  Something akin to conflict was crossing his beautiful features, making his blue eyes flicker, his soft mouth twist for a moment - I was terrified that _I'd_ done this, that I'd broken something.

That small fear was making its way to creep slowly into my chest cavity, my mind, my lungs - I was one wash of fear, only alleviated slightly by the sensation of Silas thrusting deep inside of me one last time...

  And then he was pulling away, shifting me from him, and a low sound of protest was spilling from my chest before I could stop it. I was ready to apologize - I was ready to do whatever it was that he wanted, as long as he wouldn't _stop_ , because I was fairly certain that if he stopped in that moment, I was going to die. I didn't think, after all of this, that I could live without him finishing what we'd started.

  I didn't think that I could live without him, but I'd cross that bridge when I came to it. For now, there was just the emptiness of my body, because he'd completely slid out from inside of me, and I could _feel_ the emptiness in my body. The sensation was instantly chased by the ghost of the memories that I was making Silas scorch away, and I nearly let out a small cry-

-but Silas was pushing me gently down onto the bed then, settling me onto the mattress, and then he was shifting to settle atop me. Even though he wasn't inside of me again, my world came back onto tilt, and just the warmth of his presence chased those vengeful memories away. My legs shifted, thighs hooking around Silas as soon as they could, and my fingers came up to catch his sharp jawline.

  I needed a kiss - I needed affirmation of the fact that he wasn't going anywhere - that he was mine and mine alone for the moment... and that we were here, together. That I somehow deserved this man.

Silas was only too happy to oblige, and the warmth of his mouth was enough to chase away the last of the shadows.

  God, but I _loved_ him. I loved that his kiss could bring me more comfort than anything I'd ever experienced in this entire world - that his heat and warmth scorched through me and chased away some biting winter that I hadn't even realized was settling inside of me. That safe space that I'd put between my heart and the rest of the world - the wall that I'd built up to make sure that nothing could break me...

  Silas tore that wall down, and he replaced it with his dazzling warmth and heat, the shine of light that radiated off of him, and I _knew_ that nothing would ever penetrate that wall, as long as Silas was here.

  He was going to make me _his_.

  Of course, just as I was melting completely into the kiss, my hips gyrating slowly beneath his own in a begging, wanton fashion... he broke our kiss to speak.

  "Quinn.. You're sure this is what you want?"

  He didn't have to say it - I could instantly hear the unspoken question laced through his words. I _knew_ that he was worried about how I was going to deal with this - my mind raced around in circles, trying to figure out how to answer him. I didn't want to assure him that Carslile couldn't ruin this - just thinking the name caused a biting sting in my mind that was all ugly and red, and I thrust it away instantly. I focused on the sensation of our bodies pressed together inside - the taut muscles of his belly hard against my prick. If he'd just start _moving_ , I'd get to feel the friction of flesh to flesh. I wanted to be _his._ I wanted to be completely possessed by all that he was, and I _almost_ forgot that he'd asked me a question in the wake of the sudden roll of _need_ that was pouring from deep inside of me. It was a need for him, a need for the safety and warmth that he provided.

  It was a need to connect again, because I loved him, and I knew that he loved me... somewhere. Or he wouldn't be doing this.

  I let my hand drop from his face, and I couldn't hide those emotions from my expression when I looked up at him. My sweet Silas, darling Captain, who was _still_ worried about hurting me, even though I was needy and begging beneath him. How could I _not_ have fallen in love with him from the instant that I saw him.

  More, if every bad moment in my life - my father's beatings, even what Carslile had done to me, was the road to this moment... I'd have taken it a thousand times over, because the soft reverence and adoration on his face was _worth_ _every last bruise._

   _"Yes._ " I answered his question, and I hoped that he wouldn't make me do so again. I was quickly losing my sanity and ability to speak. Either that, or I was on the verge of confessing my love to him again, and I wasn't sure if it was safe to open my mouth.

  I saw something pass his face - words that he wasn't ready to say yet. Words that maybe he didn't even have a definition for... and that was _fine_ , I'd be patient. Especially when I was instantly rewarded with Silas dropping down to press his lips against my own again, this time pouring desperate desire into the motion that chased away all thought and reason - it was almost as though he was as frightened as me, as needy for this moment _not_ to end, for it to be real. Maybe when we were done, if I had any of my senses left about me... we'd talk about how permanent this was.

  Fuck, but I wanted it to be forever.

  The kiss broke only because a moan tore from my lips - low and aching and _satisfied_ , because Silas was moving... and his body was sliding back inside of me again, and it was like something had sank home and I was complete again. The length of him penetrated me slowly, slicking along wet walls, raking a slow and thready line against the bundle of nerves that housed my desire... and it took everything that I had in me not to cry out with such force that _someone_ would hear us. Instead, I fed the groans and cries of pleasure straight against his lips, until he broke the kiss.

  The Devil must have done it on purpose, because suddenly there was no quarter to the sounds that came from me - soft whines, low, drawn out. Accented by my fingers scrambling to touch him. They were so long and drawn out that they ached in my chest, but he could have them.

  He could have each and every sound that he wanted, as long as he'd keep moving inside of me... because God, but if felt good. It felt right.

  It felt perfect.

  I needed _more._

Every twist and thrust of his hips was another long stroke inside of me, and he wasn’t being so careful anymore, as though I would break. He raked the thick head of his arousal over my nerves again and again until my eyes were rolling gently and my own length was weeping with desire. But there was still some restraint to it, as though he hadn’t found _exactly so_ as he was looking for it, and it was torture to feel him shift to different angles, to readjust. It was torture and pleasure and sweet divinity all at once, and I was going to go crazy from it before all was said and done. My words were bursting from my chest before I realized that I could even speak, whines made literally tangible and then verbal in an utterance of desperate syllables.

“Silas…” I barely managed to pant out his name, but I spoke like I was saying a prayer. His head dropped in response, his teeth finding my flesh and raking along the skin as though he meant to leave a mark, and I just _wanted him._ I twisted my body, shifting as best I could to give him access, to give him permission to do whatever he wanted - whatever he desired. He could have killed me, and I would have died in pleasure, because it was what he _wanted_ . I wanted to _feel his possession of me._  “Silas, please… please… please…” I chanted the word, intermingled with his name, though it sounded more like unscrupulous cries of _yes_ for how much I wanted him, how much I needed him. How much I _loved_ him.

  Finally, _finally_ it seemed like my begging and wanton little cries of lust and ardor were getting through to him. He didn't stop to ask me questions - he didn't stop to ask me again if I was sure, or ready. There was something so hot and positively proprietorial in his gaze, and it raked through me like molten coals being dumped over sand, turning everything to sharp edges of glass that hurt so _good._

  Above me, Silas shifted - he seemed to finally know exactly what position he wanted, exactly how he intended to claim me. I was quaking and licentious with the sensation of it pouring over my skin and telling me that now... now... finally...

  Finally, I would be his.

  I didn't fight him when he pulled his fingers from mine, though my digits instantly felt an ache of need where they had been. He pulled his limbs completely free of our entanglement, only to let them drop back between us - one rested on my hip, and the solid weight of his body resting there sent shivers of pain through me, reminding me of the fact that there were, indeed, stitches there. It didn't matter though, because it was instantly accented with the pleasure of his other hand curling long, slender fingers around the length of my prick. I nearly screamed from the sensation of it - I nearly came just from the heat of his palm encompassing my arousal. He gave a tight squeeze, and my body arched up against his, my fingers searching for some kind of purchase and finding it by way of my nails raking across his skin.

  I might have cared about leaving marks on him, but I didn't have enough mind left to do so. All that I cared about was the achingly perfect sensation that was his hand pumping against my shaft, and his body finally moving inside of my own with the possession and desire that I'd been craving all along. I could feel it, through every fiber of my being - I could feel the way that he wanted to bury himself inside of me, the way that he wanted to lose himself.

  I could feel it, and I could understand it, because I felt the same way. All that I wanted was to be completely lost to his touch, to his thrusts, to his fucking beauty.

  Because, God, was he beautiful. He was the sweet perfection of an angel, blazing with the heat of a devil. He was perfection and sin wrapped in one, and even lost completely in the throes of passion, I could appreciate that fact. I could appreciate the way that his muscles worked and bunched as he thrust against me - my eyes could catch the sight of his ass clenching tight before he delivered each powerful gyration that seemed to reach from more than just my inner chassis. Every drive of his body brought me one step closer to belonging to him, brought him one step closer to spilling completely into the very depths of my core and painting my soul with his name and essence, his stake and claim.

  I wanted to belong to him.

  His skin was softly glistening with sweat, and I wasn't sure if it was from the movement of his body, or the way that he was so carefully holding himself back from orgasm. I could feel us both teetering on the edge of it - my insides were slicked with the salt of his precum, making his gyration into my core all the easier for the strength of it. He wasn't holding back, and I wasn't feeling any pain. All that I could feel was the wholeness of him as he dove into me again and again, until there was nothing left but the sensation of his hand pumping hard against my dick, his thumb expertly brushing along the pulsing vein across the bottom of the shaft before circling up to squeeze tight at the sensitive bundle of nerves at the head of my length. It was like he knew exactly what he was doing - he shifted his hand upward just as his prick came to the apex of my center, raked over the bundle of nerves that was my prostate gland. The dual sensations of pleasure stole my breath from me at every turn, made my body ache and my head spin until I wasn't sure what was holding me together anymore, save for his hand on my hip and my fingers digging against his skin.

   I was crying out, and I couldn't discern my noises from his any more. I thought that I cried his name - I thought that I cried a thousand things; I wanted to cry promises of forever, but I could barely manage intelligible words. Everything that came tearing from my chest was a monstrous groan and a gorgeous litany all at once to the blinding pleasure that was slowly building. It tore a line from his decadently expert fingers that worked my shaft to the perfect propulsion of his hips that ran his thick head over and over my prostate, until I couldn't _breathe_ anymore.

  There was a sudden burst of movement, and then Silas was rocking forward, and his teeth set against the cluster of muscle that spilled from the line of my shoulder. He marked me, like an animal biting hard at the flesh of their mate to show all others who they belonged to. He marked me, and I was his, and though I wanted desperately to hold out, I was blinded by the radiant light of his sinful ministrations, and I lost myself to pleasure.

  Liquid heat burst from the tip of my prick so roughly that it tore a ragged scream of carnal sin from my throat, and I was satisfied to hear Silas instantly echo - liquid ambrosia that was his seed painted the inside of me, and I could _feel it._ Hot and perfect, reaching to my very depths, painting over every sin that had ever been committed against me, every wrong that had painted my world. There was only Silas now, and this was my first time, and it was perfect because _he_ was perfect.

  It was perfect because, in that glorious, shining moment of orgasm, he made _me_ feel perfect, and I'd never felt that way before. I growled, screamed, cried and moaned all in one, and lost myself as my fingers raked hard along his back once more, my body arching up as hard as it could to meet the final leg of his thrust so that I could keep each drop of his claim deep inside of me. My core clenched hard and tight around him, each spasm drawing a groan from his chest - his glorious, sweat sheened chest.

  I loved it. I **loved** **_him._ ** There was no turning back - there would never be another like Silas. Even if we parted, even if we both fell in love after, my heart was a sweet gossamer line of carefully sculpted silk, and at the center my devotion to him was carefully guarded.

  My prick burst once more with pleasure, and I could feel it stick and slick between us... and I didn't care. One hot tear spilled from the corner of my eye, and I was glad that it mingled with the perspiration that dripped from my brow. The tear wasn't a traitor - the tear was a purge of the ghosts that had haunted me. It was my body finally releasing the pain, the agony, the breaking sorrow that I’d felt since I was a child - I wasn’t alone anymore. I’d run to the very gates of Heaven with Silas, and found that the shelter of his angelic presence was better than any divine comfort that could be offered. The man that held me was a prized, perfect incarnation of divinity, and I was forever devoted to the scorching sensation of his perfect lovemaking, and the blue horizon of his eyes.

  My dark thoughts were gone, and Silas had slain them like some avenging angel... and all that I could do was cling tight to him as we both came off of the high of Heaven's clouds, and whimper out his name one last, soft, sweet time. I didn't say _I love you_ , but that one word - just his name - my favorite word... it held the depths of my emotion, and for now, that would have to be enough.

  We shifted our bodies until we laid side by side, though I noticed that Silas was being generous with the bedspace. For a while, I was content to just stay like that, with the scent of him clinging to me, my body aching from sex in all the right ways, my mind languid from the aftermath of it all. There was a part of me that wanted to stay this way forever, gently curled against him, without any worries on my mind. I knew that thoughts of reality were threatening, chomping at the bit, but Sil’s warmth was protective perfection beside me. I was content to rest in the knowledge of that.

  I watched as Silas watched me, and I saw when thoughts began to flicker through his gaze - worry. Of course he would worry. Slender fingers, still slicked with my seed, stretched up to smear the liquid across my chest, coming to rest over the thundering of my heart. Even the tempo of that beat was trying to confess to him how much I loved him, and I wasn’t sure if I could keep it to myself for much longer. Not after all of this.

   I just wanted _us_ to be a real thing.

   “...did I hurt you?” I couldn’t stop myself. Laughter jerked from my chest before I could control it. Of _course_ he was worried about that. I don’t think he realized the enormity of what he’d done for me, of what he’d _healed_ in me. He’d traced away scars that I didn’t know could be touched with his magnificent kisses.

   “Fuck no, I feel so damned _perfect_.” And I did. My lips were twisted into a playful smile, and I loved the sway that Silas’ face echoed in response.  “I could run a marathon when I get some energy back.” And by marathon, I meant that I’d happily take him jumping my bones again.

   And again.

   And ~~maybe~~   ~~definitely~~ ~~always~~  again.

   The thought of our bodies joining together made something soft echo in my chest, and I stretched to find his fingers, entwining our digits so I could roll over and look at him. All joking aside, he _needed_ to know. It was only fair… if I could just… if he felt the same way… I….

   My words were softer when I spoke this time. “You saved me.” I could see the way they impacted Silas, something hot and thick and full of emotion in his gaze. “You saved me.” I said it again, my voice stronger. I leaned forward and laid my forehead against his collar, inhaling the scent of him like golden perfection. If I was going to confess my feelings again, I wanted to get my fill of him in case he didn’t want… didn’t feel…

   I didn’t want to think about it.

   “It didn’t hurt.” I promised softly, keeping the haunting echo out of my voice as I spoke. “I’m tougher than you might think.” _And I’d take your kind of hurt any day over what I was used to._

“You’re not going to run a marathon, are you?” He sounded a bit faint, and I couldn’t help but to grin against his collar.

   “I could.” And I could, with the strength of his love giving me wings.

  “Please don’t.” I let out a small sound, but already I was sinking into thoughts - thoughts that I couldn’t control, thoughts that I needed answers to. If this was the only time that I was going to have with him, I wasn’t going to waste a minute of it. I understood if he wasn’t willing to risk his military career for me… and I knew that us being together was a risk. But I…

   I just wanted…

  I lifted my head, brushing my nose soft along his jaw until we were looking at one another again. “Silas… what happens now?” I remembered in that moment that I’d asked the same question the night before - and I remembered the echoing word of _nothing_ that had taunted me then. It mocked me now, threatening to break me down if he uttered it aloud. I saw a bemused expression blossom his features, and I watched it trace along lines of worry and careful thought. I kept a smile on my face, but it was hard.

   His fingers squeezed mine in reassurance just as I saw the thoughts behind his eyes click into place. “Right now, I think I’m going to lay here a few more minutes with you, if you’ll let me.” Of course I’d let him, I loved him. “Then when I’m done with that, I”ll go ahead and get up so I can check your back. I don’t want you to have pulled yourself open, but they’re basically super sticky bandages.” I didn’t feel hurt. My insides were a squirming mass of worry for the truth of his answer and my need to belong to him _always,_ but I couldn’t feel the pain in my back. “We have to be sure they’re secure, and fix them if they’re not.” It was almost adorable that he was talking about the here and now, but a part of me worried that it meant he wasn’t thinking about the future.

   Our future. “..then I think I might worship you some more. You deserve it, and I’d very much like to give it to you.” I couldn’t stop the low smile from crossing my features, the need and love and heat swirling inside of my chest and threatening to spill out. A part of me wanted to just accept his answer - to lay here with him and not worry about tomorrow.

   A huge part of me wanted that.

   But the small, still voice in the back of my mind was what propelled me forward to kiss him so gently. “That sounds _amazing_ .” I kissed him once, and then again, tracing along his jaw for a moment with my lips. “But it’s not what I meant.” I took a breath, and I knew that it was softly shaky in his ear. My arms wrapped around him tight, even though I was asking him the question that could shatter me… I was still begging him to reassure me as I did so. “I… Silas…” I knew what this meant for him, for us. I knew it was a risk. I knew we’d have to be careful, but it was worth it to me. That word _nothing_ was still a menace in my subconscious.

    “I understand if I’m not worth the risk… if having a relationship… I mean…” God, but I sounded like a schoolgirl. “I’m thankful for every minute that we have, and if it never goes further than this room… I want it to, _God_ , I want it to.” I was speaking my mind before I could stop myself. “I want you.” _I love you._ “I love you.”

   Shit. Shit. Shit. Had I just said that aloud? I froze against him, and I could feel my body trembling as I buried my burning face against his neck. I said it again, softer - because I couldn’t take it back. I _wouldn’t_ take it back. “I love you, Silas…”  And even if it was just for right now, just in this room that Silas wanted to be with me, I knew that I was going to love him forever… and it scared the fuck out of me.    

   There was a drawn out moment of silence that seemed to last for an eternity. In that silence, I heard every hateful word that my Father had ever spoken to me - every time, after leaving me bloody and broken, that he’d told me that I wasn’t worth anything else. That no one would ever give a _fuck_ one way or another. In that silence, I heard my heart breaking a thousand times.

   “You can’t know that,” It sounded so full of pain, and I could feel the same emotion as what spilled through his tone pouring out of his body. He still held me, and his breath was hot and sweet, and we still smelled like lovemaking… and I wanted to cry. “You can’t. You barely even know me.”

   My chest was too tight to speak. I wanted to tell him that I _knew_ that, that I’d only known him for a few months… but I’d watched him in that time. I’d seen what a strong, brave, amazing man he was. I’d seen him stand up for people when others wouldn’t - I’d seen in him a light that I’d _never_ known could exist. I knew that he was good, that he cared… that he cared for _me…_ and I couldn’t help but to love him for it, because of it. Because of everything that he was. Maybe I didn’t understand the gravity of the word completely, but I knew that Silas King was the person who could show me - probably the only person, because I knew if he turned me away now, I was _never_ going to let myself feel this vulnerable again. It ached, it burned, and it was so full of hope all at once that I wanted to scream. He hadn’t told me _no._ But he hadn’t told me _yes_ either.

   I wanted to hold tight to him and offer to just go all at once, and I couldn’t make myself say anything one way or the other. _I loved him_ , and in that moment, that was all that I knew.

   Finally, _finally_ , his arms hugged me tighter, and I felt a small piece of heaven click into place in my chest. _I belonged in his arms_ . “You can’t get caught with me,” there was so many more things left unspoken in his voice, but I couldn’t discern them. I could only focus in on the fact that he was giving contingencies to a _yes,_ and blink furiously because my eyes were burning with unshed tears that I refused to let fall. “If anything happens, you tell them I forced you.” I went even more rigid than when I’d confessed my feelings. I would _not._ The military wasn’t my life - it was my escape. Silas _was_ military. It was in his blood, his makeup, the way that he stood, the way that he held himself. “That I used my rank.” I bit my tongue furiously, actually tasting copper. I wouldn’t throw him to the wolves for my sake. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. The fact that he was willing to risk _everything_ that he was to protect me just made me love him more - how did he _not_ understand how I could love him already? He was _perfect_ , and I was fucking _unworthy._

   “We _won’t_ get caught.” My voice came out vehemently, and I pulled back from his neck to look at him. I knew that my green eyes were probably glassy with the tears that I refused to let fall - with raw emotion and _love_ and a fierceness to protect him. “I wouldn’t let that happen.” I didn’t know how, but I damn well wouldn’t. If he was really going to… if he was going to _give me_ this chance to be with him, I wouldn’t let it backfire on him. There was still a raw lump in my throat, tight and hot and full of unshed tears.

   I watched his face, my eyes careful but sharp as emotions flickered across his features again. Every facet of the gem that was Silas King was beautiful, and I wanted to see it all. He swallowed after a moment, and his smile was watery… but beautiful. “Careful. Your confidence could be infectious.” He leaned in, so that our foreheads were pressed against one another. I breathed in the scent of him, basked  in the way that our hearts beat too-fast, but perfectly in time. All that I could do was think that _this_ was the man that I was _made for_. This perfect angel, fallen from heaven and made into some kind of sweet Devil. It was him.

   It had always been him - and suddenly everything that I’d gone through seemed so worth it to get to this point, because there was a perfect _hope_ for a future with him that dazzled and painted everything a beautiful sky blue. I leaned in, cutting off the slow trail of thoughts that slipped across his features. My voice was a low whisper when I spoke, and I blinked away the tears that threatened my gaze still.

   “Good. Let me _infect_ you with it.” Soft, teasing, but still with the same undercurrent of fear and worry as before - he was giving me what I wanted, but it still seemed so tumultuous. My hands came up gently, carefully - I gave him time to stop me as I cupped his face, and I gave him time to tell me no as I leaned in to press my lips gently against his own.

   There was a beat, and then he was kissing me back, following the gentle movement of my lips until it was something hot and perfect and irrevocably sealing, like a contract signed for us to take this path to our entwined fates - our _fate_ together, because that was what we were now. Hope sprang, scalding and stripping away all doubt from my senses - in that moment, I knew that we could do this. I knew that it would work; the war be damned, and society, too. Silas was a perfect Heaven in my arms, his lips feeding me Ambrosia and divinity. I would _make_ it work - we both would. We were training for war, after all… and this was one that I knew we would _win._  

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Devil Was An Angel Too](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6297613) by [ProwlingThunder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProwlingThunder/pseuds/ProwlingThunder)




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